


Companiontale: Does Frisk Dream of Electric Skeletons?

by Akumokagetsu, licoricebrightwater



Series: Companiontale [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Abuse, Alocholic Sans, Alternate Universe - Monsters Weren't Sealed Underground, Child Abuse, Companiontale, Cyborgs, Ecto-Genitalia (Undertale), Ecto-Tongue (Undertale), F/F, F/M, Frisk Needs A Hug, Frisk doesn't understand what personal space is, Frisk is damaged, Gaster isn't a total dick, Graphic Depictions of Sans being stupid, How many more custom tags do we have?, It's not slavery if you don't think about it, Multi, Near Future, OH GOD WHAT HAVE WE DONE!?, Poor Papyrus, Sans is lonely and weird, Sans is too sober for this shit, Sans makes all the bad decisions, Sci-fi-ish, an unrelenting trainwreck, drugs are bad m'kay, questionable morals, undertale - Freeform, you feel your sins crawling on your Sans, you feel your sins crawling on your back
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-01-18 17:32:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 46,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12392784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akumokagetsu/pseuds/Akumokagetsu, https://archiveofourown.org/users/licoricebrightwater/pseuds/licoricebrightwater
Summary: Monsters were never sealed Underground, and as a result, magic and technology have since intertwined. After the incident with his brother Sans begins to lose himself in his work, and eventually, settles on obtaining a 'Companion' to help fill the void in his life. However, his new addition to his life doesn't really seem like any other mechanical assistant that he has ever encountered before, and the more that he learns about her the madder he gets, and the deeper down the rabbit hole he goes...After all.We're all mad here.





	1. Skeleton In The Shell

Sans ordered a large coffee on his way back to the lab from his break, the time rapidly approaching as he tried to shake off jitters. Ebott was fairly packed for this time of day, but he had no difficulty traversing the crowds. He tried to stuff one hand in his white lab coat pocket, the tail of the coat flapping behind him a bit as he kept up the slow pace. It wasn't all that special, it was just like getting a new lamp or something. But with a face. It wasn't as though he was necessarily nervous, but he had his doubts. He had seen plenty of Companions in his time. They always had their colored blindfolds on, making them easy to distinguish. Not that it hindered their vision in any way, but it was symbolic nonetheless. They were representative of their lost identity, shambling slaves to their assigned owners. They were always a little creepy, at least to Sans. Just the very idea of having one's entire identity  _ wiped out _ only to be taken over by those cybernetic implants... it was unnerving. Seeing a monster as a Companion was pretty rare, but Sans accepted that easily. Monsters very rarely committed the same level of crimes that humans did. Hell, sometimes humans killed each other just for the fun of it. Hence, the Companion 'remodeling'. Only those who had committed grievous and unforgivable sins were forced to become one. It was a fate worse than death, or so many believed. And now he was getting one for himself.  _ Stars help me I hope it's not a monster. _

 

Sans finished off his coffee and tossed it toward a trash bin on the sidewalk and missed. A man walking with his Companion, a lanky older man with a red blindfold, took one 'look' at him before stooping down and picking up the cup, depositing it into the bin. Sans turned away and had to suppress a shudder that went up his spine. Those things were downright  _ creepy _ sometimes. He wondered what kind of sin that one must have committed to have a red blindfold. Most of them were green, or blue, or yellow. Sometimes even the rare purple or orange. Red was never a good sign. And now he (it) was doing community service. Sans shook his head and checked the time on his phone, regretting that he kept putting off getting an actual watch like his brother did. But Papyrus was always more punctual than he was. Papyrus had never shown up to work in slippers. Papyrus would have made him feel better when he was miserable. But it was just an empty home, now. He felt the emptiness of that place constantly. Maybe that was a little symbolic, too. Perhaps that was what had pushed him towards a Companion at last. There were no shortages of vile criminals being punished, so maybe he would get one that wasn't too weird looking. Maybe a tall one. One that could pull off wearing a scarf even in the heat. God he missed Papyrus.

 

Companions were supposed to be highly customizable, he had seen companions with bunny ears, cat ears, some who looked more monster than human. The unifying trait amongst them, outside of their cybernetic enhancements, was the piercing, startlingly blue eyes. They were icy blue, sharp and crystalline, and almost seemed to glow with their intensity, this was a result of the cyberization process, a process that included replacement of the eyes with a pair of cybernetic eyes… effectively over-designed cameras that allowed them to process visual data. This is what the blindfold helped with; too much visual data could overwhelm a companion and so they wore those blindfolds made from some kind of synthetic polymer material, it filtered out the worst of the data so the companion wasn't overwhelmed. Only a companion's owner, or another companion, ever saw a companion without their blindfold one and those startlingly, HAUNTINGLY blue eyes. Entering into the lab, Sans punched in and yawned, well he would- "Sans," he flinched and turned to stare up at the form of his boss. W.D Gaster. Gaster was a severe, stern man...not a cruel monster, but certainly an extremely professional one, most of the time. He had been the creator of the Companions, utilizing soul and magic technology to nearly wipe out someone's memory and replace it with a blank slate that allowed a Companion to even exist. Of course, completely erasing someone's identity was damn near impossible, so all companion's retained a little element of their original personality and identity… though these fragmented memories could sometimes confuse the companion and they were urged not to dwell on such matters.

 

“What’s up, doc?” Sans grinned up at him, suppressing yet another yawn.

"Sans, there was a delivery for you this morning," the doctor stated and offered a clipboard with some papers on it, freeing his hands to jitter animatedly in front of him as he spoke. Maybe it was a nervous tic for him. "Next time, please don't have your personal purchases delivered to your work, it's unprofessional." Straightening the lead scientist cracked a slight smile. "Regardless, it's in your workspace. I took the liberty of unboxing it and plugging it in, I haven't put its blindfold on yet," That was almost a ritual amongst owners and their companion, the application of the blindfold. "I assume you have already read up on how to customize, program and teach your companion?"

 

“Yeah, I skimmed through the manual,” he said flippantly. He had actually read through the thing no less than seven times already, but he wasn’t about to admit that.

 

"Well I approve of you getting one, they are rather useful and a good way to turn the dregs of society into productive members, even involuntarily! I will give you some time to get it set up if you need my assistance you know where I am." The Man Who Speaks in Hands then walked away, leaving the skeleton shaking his head. Gaster rarely showed it but he was actually quite passionate about companions, they thrilled him and it showed by the fact that the normally very professional doctor was letting Sans 'play with his new toy'. What kind of Companion had he gotten though? Well, the blindfold would tell him whatever he needed to know. It wasn’t like he needed their whole history.

 

Sans meandered into his office, trying very hard not to look excited, even though he was a bit more than eager. He would finally get something to fill in the void in his life. He could program his new companion to do all of the cooking, the cleaning, the washing, and scrubbing. Busy work. Meaning that he had more time to be lazy. All the benefits of having a maid without any of the weird judgmental looks for how he lived his life afterward. He had been debating heavily over what kind of settings he would install though. If he even wanted to. But that little voice in the back of his head just wouldn't stop.  _ You can't replace him and you know it. _ Sans shook off the thoughts as best he could, exiting the elevator away from a slightly confused grey figure literally holding his face in his hands and a grey cat monster.  _ Seriously _ , he thought vaguely to himself. Gaster was starting to surround his workplace with more and more grey monsters. Did the doctor secretly have some kind of color prejudice? That would certainly be bizarre. Gaster always had little quirks, but that was more than a bit of a quirk, and seemingly more like a legitimate personality flaw. He shrugged it off as he swiped his keycard to unlock his office. He could have just shortcutted in, but he had already walked all this way. Plus, people that watched him vanish from thin air tended to freak out a little no matter how many times they saw it. Best to do that away from prying eyes.

 

As he opened he saw it...and it was surprisingly very small. It was dressed in a simple grey one piece leotard with a couple of smudges on its face, it's eyes closed and a white cable running from the back of its head, beneath that brown hair to an outlet on the wall. Like other companions he could see the thin outlines of the cybernetic enhancements on its body, both arms and legs were actually prosthetic but soft and warm to the touch. Applying further enhancements was easy enough, they had a chip deck hidden where the skull and neck met that could be opened to install upgrade chips for specific duties… or sexual preferences, if you were into that kind of thing. Sans had seen it more than once. Reprogramming could be achieved with any standard computer or by simply instructing the companion to open its customization menu which was displayed via a holo-emitter. But she was so...small, even smaller than he was and next to her was the package, which had a small tablet in it, the history of his companion, their name...and a blindfold. Gaster had also left a box of customizable parts out in case Sans wanted to personalize it. Her. It? He was feeling more and more uncomfortable the longer that he gazed at it. It was just so…  _ frail _ looking. It unnerved him on numerous levels. Why were they so rail thin? They were young, far too young to be a Companion in his opinion. What kind of justice system would allow for a  _ child  _ to be reprogrammed like this? He had heard of such things before, but only in hushed whispers, and to be frank he didn’t really want to think too hard about it. Maybe it was just Gaster’s idea of a little prank. The man’s sense of humor could be relatively dark. If it was a joke, nobody was laughing.

 

Sans stared down at the thing, uncertainty creeping back into his mind. Companions were all supposed to be adults… right? But this one was practically little enough to be a child, the thought ran through his mind again and again. They (He? She? It?) were far too small for him to be comfortable around it. Long bangs covering the eyes, face completely expressionless as they rested against the wall, plugged in and a little glow occasionally shifting from beneath their flitting eyelids. But the thought wouldn’t leave him. Maybe there was a mix up somewhere down the line? Gaster couldn’t be serious about this. The man must have had an awfully  _ warped  _ sense of humor. That had to be it. What kind of a terrible crime must a  _ child _ have committed to become a Companion? He didn’t want to think too much about it. That was the solution to everything, when it all boiled down to it, just don’t think about it. Maybe he could do a request for their full files if he really grew curious about it. He closed the door behind him and the lights flicked on automatically, bathing them in a warm luminescent glow. Sans let out a breath and knelt before the unconscious Companion, studying their features closely. Lightly tanned skin, thin eyes, and a little button nose, their face a bit rounded even though they were very thin; probably unhealthily so, it made him uneasy. Companions didn’t need to eat much after their reprogramming, but he doubted that this one had eaten much even before that. It made him uncomfortable, but he pushed that thought away, too. If he just stood around feeling awkward he’d never get anything done. He fiddled with the packaged box that Gaster had left beside it (them?) and pulled out several labeled USB drives along with instruction sheets written in hands… as well as their blindfold.

It was a deep crimson.

 

This kid had committed  _ murder. _

 

He almost dropped it, his bones quivering. Murder. The child couldn't have been older than 8 or 9, 10 at the most, and they had  _ murdered  _ someone. Yet here they sat with such a serene, calm expression, their posture so relaxed...they almost looked like they were asleep "Frisk" was their name...no last name was given. Just ...'Frisk'. It was probably some kind of security reason; do not reveal their name so they or others can't be hunted down. He wondered if that was their real name, or if that was simply their designated identity. This was... red...a bright red blindfold. His mouth felt dry as he stared at it resting on the counter, he stared for a very, very long time. There was a knocking at the door that made him jump. 

 

"Sans? Are you alright?" Gaster...shit how long had been on the floor staring up at that red blindfold?

 

“Just finishing up,” Sans called back, hoping that his discomfort wouldn’t be apparent in his voice. He was more than a little rattled.

“Do you require assistance?” Gaster said through the door, somewhat hopefully.   
“Nah, I got it…” he reassured him, not feeling assured in the slightest. He really wanted Gaster in here with him to explain a few things, but he refused to allow the doctor to see him so sweaty and nervous. He carefully took the blindfold and slipped it over ‘Frisk’s’ face, his mind racing. If he held it just right it almost looked like a gag on them. He shook himself hard at that thought and finished placing the red sash over their (her?) eyes, tying it off tightly but not so much that it was uncomfortable. Which didn’t make much sense to him in hindsight, they were a Companion, it didn’t  _ matter _ if they were uncomfortable or not. He was the one that was uncomfortable, that was all that mattered. A  _ red _ blindfold, Christ on a bike. He briefly wondered just who the kid must have killed. Maybe a monster. He didn’t want to think about it.

 

Sans booted up the companion as he spoke the initiating phrases, and there was a dim blue flicker of light from beneath their blindfold. They shivered suddenly as if cold before stilling, looking straight up at him with a blank expression.

Sans glanced back and forth through some of the customizable parts (several of which he did  _ not _ want anyone else to get a look at, those were extremely awkward to look at even for him; clearly Gaster very much did have a twisted sense of humor, because he couldn’t be serious about some of these ‘attachments’) before finally settling his gaze on Frisk’s face.

“Hey,” he raised a hand limply before stuffing it into his pocket. “So. Uh. I guess I kinda… own you? Now?”   
Frisk only gave a single nod.

 

"And I know I haven't really given you any upgrades yet," he was rambling at this point, but he didn't care. "We'll get there when the time comes. It's almost time to pack up for the day anyway, so, uh. Guess you can start off with carrying some of this stuff back to the house. I'd carry it, but I'm kinda super lazy. Then we can get you outfitted properly. That sound good to you?" Frisk did not respond. Sans mentally kicked himself. He needed to work on phrasing. Companions didn't have opinions, so why was he implying that he wanted one? "Lemme rephrase that," he said slowly, packing up the box. "You carry the box and follow me. Can ya do that for me?" Frisk nodded once more before following his orders, holding the box of parts in their little arms while Sans unplugged them and stuffed the cord in his pocket.

 

Gaster was quite pleased as the girl(?) followed Sans, her (his?) head tilting from side to side as she drank in the curious place. She was likely asleep when she arrived. "You'll want to upgrade the battery," Gaster was following them, wanting to customize the little companion already, it was kind of...disturbing. The girl didn't respond as she carried Sans' belongings, though her eyes did rake over them, spotting his name on one. Strangely, it seemed almost...familiar, but she remained silent.

 

"I know, I know," Sans shrugged. "I'll get around to it." 

"I do mean it, Sans," Gaster's footsteps echoed as they traversed the linoleum floor, heading toward the elevator. "These smaller models do not necessarily have large battery capacities; I have the good doctor Alphys working on developing a more powerful battery that can be distributed amongst Companion owners; after all, nobody wants to carry around dead weight," he said as if he were talking about the weather. Sans stole a glance down at Frisk, watching their steady movements and blank expression. He wondered if he would mind carrying them to get them charged. They must be fairly light, considering their size. "Sans. Sans?" Gaster said a bit louder, and he jolted out of his reverie.

"Yeah, what's-what's up, doc?" Sans grinned at him. "I said we've been standing in front of the elevator for three minutes," Gaster tapped a black sleek shoe against the floor in irritation. "And I asked what version of battery you wanted to be developed." 

"... Why developed?" he blinked as the elevator opened. Sans ushered in Frisk and followed Gaster. 

"Because this model is too small for the average implants," the annoyance was beginning to fade from his voice as he smiled down at him. "But worry not. I have personally picked out and created some rather...  _ interesting _ upgrades that I think you will enjoy."

That only served to put him more on edge than anything.

 

“So. Uh. You didn’t do the battery?” Sans tried to keep a cool tone as they descended to the bottom floor together. 

“I had to make do,” Gaster shrugged, the taller skeleton rolling his shoulders in a manner familiar to Sans. “The new battery should be sustainable for days or even weeks at a time when it’s finished, I do so love prototypes. Still having problems with it spontaneously combusting though, that might be an issue. Until then, try not to overuse your new Companion. Or do. Break it in however you’d like, I don’t care. Just don’t  _ overload  _ it or run out the battery too many times, and it should be fine.”

“Hey, if all else fails, I’ll just shove some spare batteries into ‘em,” Sans said jokingly. For some reason, Frisk  _ twitched _ a little, but other than that they didn’t speak. 

 

"I don't care how you use your new toy," Gaster rolled the lights in his eye sockets. "Just keep me updated on its progress, I am  _ fascinated _ by how they adapt. There's always something new to learn with a Companion, they really are my favorite experiment," he was almost giddy at this point, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet as he escorted Sans to the door. It was so odd to Sans, watching him switch between serious and eager like sometimes he was two different monsters. "Alright, alright," Sans waved him off with a grin. Gaster always had the strangest habit of flipping between serious and overzealous at the drop of a hat. It reminded him of-

No. He wouldn't think about him. Not right now. He couldn't break down right now, he could do that after getting drunk. He just had to keep telling himself, he  _ wasn't _ replacing him. It was just something that could help (i.e. do all the work) around the house. And that was all.

But then again, from what he’d read and heard, a Companion had a multitude of different options…

"I'll see ya after the weekend," Sans raised his hand in a distracted half-wave as he walked out of the lab, Frisk close in tow. Gaster said something noncommittal about his tardiness but Sans ignored it. He just wanted to get home and get plastered.

 

Sans walked down the sidewalk, half tempted to get another coffee just to stay awake, but he really wanted to be home more than anything. Besides, he didn't like the looks that he was getting from passersby. Having a Companion was somewhat of a status symbol. But his was no ordinary one, and the fact that they were so small must have been unnerving, not to mention the fact that their red blindfold stuck out just a bit regardless of the other Companions roaming the streets with their owners. He really should alter their appearance when he could. He didn’t like the idea of being stared at.

"...Sans?" Sans found himself freezing, and he turned slowly...well, of COURSE, they could talk, he wasn't completely stupid. But...but... he stared at them, the tiny human (girl?) with her brilliant fire truck-red blindfold. "It is going to rain. Do you possess an umbrella?" That was it...something so mundane and simple, yet how tiny their voice was unnerved the skeleton, even as she cocked her head to the side in innocent curiosity.

"Nah, didn't bring an umbrella," he shrugged as they walked behind him. "You okay with the rain?"

"My external ports are all heat resistant and waterproof," they responded promptly. Their voice was always so robotic and even, he could tell without even looking that they had the same blank expression. "I also possess built-in covers for opened ports, so that I may better serve regardless of conditions."

"Waterproof, eh?" he tossed a glance back at them. "Same here just rolls off my skin."

 

He could have  _ sworn _ that he saw their lips twitch a little. But that was silly. Companions didn't have a sense of humor. Or personality, for that matter. Why was it so important to him anyway? Maybe he could install a joke book into them. Liven things up a little.

"According to my reports it shall begin raining in approximately three minutes and twenty-four seconds," they informed him. "Would you like me to progress at an increased rate to prevent your belongings from getting wet?"

"It's fine," Sans shrugged as he passed a couple of monsters in suits chatting aimlessly about something boring. "I know a shortcut. Take my hand, kid." His Companion tilted their head just a little, almost as if in confusion before complying, reaching out to his extended hand. Their prosthetic limb was warm and soft to the touch, so much like the real thing that he almost was convinced that they had actual flesh there. He briefly wondered whether or not they lost their (her? He really should find out at some point) limbs before being reprogrammed. But he quickly pushed that thought from his mind, pulling Frisk close to him and slipping into a shortcut directly into his home.

They let out a tiny confused noise as they landed on soft carpet, nearly dropping the box.

"... I do not understand," they said slowly. "Was I temporarily deactivated for travel purposes?" "Nope," he shrugged. "Just a little shortcut." This was getting weird. Companions didn't normally ask questions, did they?

What exactly had Gaster installed them with...? Maybe he could hook them up to his home computer and find out some more about their files.

 

"Sorry the place is kind of a wreck," he rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, letting go of them when he realized that he was still holding their hand. He looked around at the empty pizza boxes, the fast food bags, empty cups and cans everywhere. He really had let the place fall apart after Papyrus had- No, no thinking of that. Not right now.

"Would you like me to begin the cleaning protocol immediately?" they looked up at him.

"Sure, knock yourself out."

Frisk placed the box on the floor, curled up a hand and immediately began punching themselves in the face.

"Wh- _ whoa _ !" he jolted, grabbing their arm and making them pause. "What are you doing?"

"I must follow orders accordingly," they responded blankly. "I am attempting to knock myself out."

Sans cringed. He didn't realize that they would take his orders  _ that _ literally. He thought back to the manual, particularly the part which was underlined in red  _ AVOID PARADOXES AT ALL COSTS _ . Maybe the kid wouldn't be too good to play pranks on.

"Okay, so, I didn't mean to  _ physically _ knock yourself out," he said slowly as they dropped their hands, a little bruise already swelling beneath their left eye under the blindfold. "I just meant, uh... start-start cleaning up the place," he gave the order carefully. "Don't hurt yourself. Okay?"

They nodded once and turned robotically, picking up trash and stacking it neatly in their arms.

 

Sans let out a weary sigh and dragged himself to the kitchen. He needed to pick up more ketchup. Probably some food that wasn't garbage for the Companion. He read somewhere that they consisted mainly on nutrient paste, but maybe they would like a real home-cooked meal.  _ What are you talking about, you can't go being nice to a mindless killer. _

He shrugged off the thoughts and pulled out a whiskey bottle from the cupboard, popping the top off and pouring himself a strong drink with a couple of ice cubes.

  
  


0-0-0-0-0

 

Frisk was surprisingly fast about cleaning. He almost laughed to himself, they set about with a fervor that could only be matched by Papyr- He cringed and forced himself to look down at his drink instead. He swirled the hard whiskey around the glass, watching the ice cubes drift like frozen swans in their amber pond. He let out a heavy sigh and finished it off, pouring himself another drink almost immediately. He was  _ definitely _ going to regret the hangover, but he didn't care. Maybe tonight the nightmares wouldn't come if he was drunk enough. It was doubtful. But he could hope.

Sans glanced up every now and then to watch them clean, as they had already finished with the trash and had begun scrubbing the coffee table, straightening the plush leather sofa and cleaning it, even doing the dusting. He wondered briefly if he could get them a little maid uniform for when they cleaned. His cheeks burned a little with what he convinced himself was the whiskey, and he finished off the drink all in one go as he shakily poured himself another. He wouldn't think of him today. He  _ wouldn't _ . He spent all day every day since thinking about him, and today would be the one day that he wouldn't grieve. He doubted that would be true. But he could try.

She moved quickly, easily cleaning and...

 

She was humming… it was a nonsensical diddle, but a cute one as she cleaned. Clothes..she'd need clothes. Stripes too; killer or not, she was still a kid, a kid that needs stripes. Paps would want her to wear stripes... he'd be scolding Sans right now, letting a kid, even a companion, do all the work. Then again, Pap's always tried to make friends with the companions. 

"Sans...are you hungry?" she had stopped by the kitchen, which was filthy from dirt and spilled alcohol, but not from food. Sans never cooked for himself.

"...Uh...I-I guess," the half drunk monster admitted, "Why? Can you cook?"

 

She nodded once.

 

"Yes, I can cook," she pushed a chair over to the sink and climbed on top of it to start scrubbing dishes. She was so damned...  _ patient _ and the house was beginning to reek of cleaning solution. It was weirdly comforting, however, and definitely a step up from the stench of marijuana, cigarettes, alcohol, ketchup, and leftover pizza.

_ Shit Papyrus...sorry. I... really let the place go, didn't I? _ Sans plucked a dollar from his wallet and dropped it into the swear jar. The fourth swear jar.

 

He had no idea what he'd do with them...but Pap's would have wanted him to work on it. 

"...Say, kid." Sans looked up at the girl who turned her head curiously to look at him. 

"Yes?"

He took a drag on his cigarette slowly, savoring the taste as the gears in his head turned, and he knew that he would regret it but he didn't care. 

"… Can... you make spaghetti?"

 

The sound of boiling water filled the kitchen, and the little one jumped up and down from her chair as she retrieved items. She was wearing an oversized apron to protect her body from splashes, apparently, she COULD feel pain, which startled the skeleton for reasons that eluded him. "Make enough for yourself," Sans had instructed, paste or no paste...he didn't like the idea of eating alone. The girl didn't protest, pouring sauce into a pot and adding meatballs.

The skeleton felt a strange pulse of guilt, watching a child little more than half his size do all the work, but he shoved it off: she was a Companion, work is what they did. She began to hum...again. Eventually, she produced two plates of spaghetti and brought them to the table, with another half pot sitting on the stove; it was piping hot, with heavy meatballs and topped with spaghetti sauce, and of course...Parmesan cheese.

 

"... Ya did good, kid," Sans said after a few bites. She looked at him curiously with that same little tilt of the head. Almost like she was hearing something new. He didn't know why that bothered him so much.

"... You gonna...?" He gestured to the plate in front of her.

Sans blinked after a moment. "You have permission," he felt a bit guilty just from having to say that. "Go ahead and eat."

"Thank you," she whispered softly, so quietly that he almost didn't hear her. Her face was completely expressionless, at first. Then she took a bite and he saw her eyebrows shoot up from under the blindfold.

"Ah...you alright kid?" he asked, sipping his whiskey and watching his companion struggle not to inhale the food. Well, that answered that they DID like real food, quite a lot it seemed.

 

"I have no noticeable errors in my processing unit," she replied after swallowing.

"I meant," Sans took another swig, feeling dizzy. "I meant, uh. How-how do you like it? You like it more than Companion paste?" 

"The flavor is superior and I am no longer as hungry," she stated. "Thank you for allowing me this meal."

An odd pang of guilt began to rise in his chest again, but he drowned it with yet another long swig. He realized after a bit that it was actually raining; the kid hadn't been mistaken after all. They (she? Their voice was soft and feminine, but he didn't really want to ask) finished in silence (Frisk's portion was much smaller, and yet somehow they both finished simultaneously) and she wordlessly did those dishes as well, leaving them in the rack. Instead of doing anything else, she simply stood before Sans with her hands folded in the front, looking (or trying to through the blindfold) at Sans. It was a little creepy.

 

"... What are ya doing, kid."

"I must await further instructions," she said evenly. Sans just took another drink, a very long one this time. He let out a sigh and stood, motioning for her to follow. She silently complied, letting him lead her to the living room. There was a large, opulent window that Papyrus had insisted on getting, circular and with large drapes that he pulled to the side. A wide comfy cushioned bench had been put in next to it. He couldn't count the number of times he had seen Papyrus sitting there with the side of his face pressed to the window, just happily watching the weather. Sans resisted the urge to just pass out on it, the whiskey bottle still in hand as he sat on a corner. Frisk just looked at him with that little head tilt.

He eventually let out another sigh, shaking his head.

 

"Come here," he commanded in a quiet tone. She (he? Screw it, he would settle on she, for now, if she didn't like it he could change it later) complied instantly, standing in front of him. Instead of giving her further orders, he simply reached down and tucked his hands under her armpits, carefully lifting her up and placing her comfortably in his lap. She did the same little confused head tilt, almost like she was uncertain.

"... I do not understand," he could almost hear her blinking. 

"We're watchin' it rain," he explained. "It's, uh. It's nicer than just watching it by yourself. You know?"

They did not respond further.

 

0-0-0-0-0

 

"... I'm gonna get some of your upgrades done tonight," he said after a while, watching water trickle down the glass, staring up at the thick cloudy skies. "That can wait until later though. You know what kind you want done first?" What was he  _ doing _ , she was a companion. She didn't and couldn't  _ want _ anything, she was practically a robot. But he held onto her anyway, hand on her forearm as he didn't pull his gaze away from the clouds. Unsurprisingly, she didn't answer.

"I shall comply with whatever you choose to do to me, Sans," she said after a moment.

Sans was now more than just a bit uneasy.

 

"...So, uh, what-what was your name again?” he asked quietly, knowing full well what the answer would be.

"I am whatever you chose to call me" Sans wanted to smash his face against a wall.

"No, what is YOUR name" he coaxed carefully, "What are you called?" She looked at him curiously for several long moments before tilting her head again.

"...Frisk" she finally answered softly, and Sans allowed himself a victorious little smile.

"Well, hello Frisk. I'm Sans. Glad we could finally get to the introductions. But I guess you've already been programmed to know me, huh. Man that's a weird thought."

 

"... Do you like the rain, Frisk?" He asked conversationally. She didn't answer at first.

"I will like everything that you instruct me to," she said simply.

The guilt began to return, and with a few more drinks it wasn't a problem. "Ah huh," he nodded a couple of times, feeling woozy. "Alright, so. What did you like before you were, uh. Y'know. Programmed."

She became very still for a bit.

"Searching databanks."

"I don't need a full report," he said drunkenly. "Just like what you used ta like."

He probably shouldn't have phrased it like that, but they have a single nod regardless.

".... I like the rain," her voice was almost unheard. Sans shrugged and patted her on the head. To his surprise, she actually leaned a little into his touch for just a bare moment before stilling again. They sat there for what felt like hours.

 

At some point he realized that she was asleep, curled against his chest with her eyes closed, and in spite of himself, Sans found his bony hand stroking her head. Part of himself wanted to take the blindfold off, though he had sense enough to know not to do it in view of a window, rather somewhere with as few distractions as possible, as she'd try to categorize what she saw.

Taking a blindfold off could be dangerous in the wrong circumstances, overwhelming a companion and shutting them down and leading to migraines and headaches. Not for him, maybe, but still. He knew the importance of keeping a blindfold on a Companion as often as possible.

It may seem like nothing but pain could distract a companion, rather easily in fact.

She still needed clothes.

Tomorrow, when he was sober enough, he'd take her to a store and pick her up something new to wear. He had anticipated just giving his Companion some of his clothes to wear so that he wouldn't have to actually go out, but she was just so small that he doubted anything he had would fit her. She didn't even have shoes, how did he not notice that?

 

He hadn't even realized that she had been going barefoot the entire way through the day. The clothes that she did wear were plain and grey, probably Gaster's doing. He could probably find her something halfway decent to wear. For now, though she probably needed to charge. He carried her to the computer room, placing her down with gentleness and plugging in her back neck port. He didn't entirely know  _ why _ he bothered with being gentle. He could probably do just about anything to her and she wouldn't complain. That thought frightened him. Deeply.

He slipped off her blindfold to find her eyes closed.

Booting up the unit on the computer didn't take long, and he was met with lines and lines of scrawling code. Thankfully he had learned Gaster's favorite codes early on, so digging through files was relatively simple. He only had to tweak the settings just a bit and he could remake her however he pleased.

Then he froze.

The waves of guilt that he had been pushing off began roiling within him. He wasn't necessarily  _ destroying _ her. It was just a simple process. One that abolished all sense of personality and identity. Mostly not evil. At the very least it was questionable. He  _ definitely _ wasn't evil.

 

... Maybe he could get to that later.

 

He found entire segments of code that were devoted to restraining her memories, slowing hormone release for emotion and other tweaks to make her a more malleable companion. If he were to tamper with those, however, even just a little, stars only knew what could happen...

What was he talking about? Why worry? They were just a Companion. If something went wrong, he could always... get a new one.

 

Instead of changing her personality to something else, he left it untouched and began working on the augmentations to her body instead. They needed a tune-up, had Gaster even used the best on this? Probably not. He frowned, going through the box. Some of these....  _ additions _ he was certainly glad hadn't fallen out in public. Gaster must have been playing a little joke on him. He wouldn't use most of them. Probably.

The codes were what caught his attention the most though.

Standard, mostly, just to make his companion to comply. Several chunks of memory data, however, simply were not there. That was yet another terrifying thought.

 

Had she been technically lobotomized...? He shrugged it off. It shouldn't matter. It  _ didn't _ matter, companions didn't matter. She could be replaced. Just the thought made him feel ill. Just lines of code in a cyborg suit, he had to keep reminding himself. That was all. Before he had been too sober. Now he was too drunk. He just couldn't seem to catch a break.

He decidedly left almost everything untouched.

 

Some of the optional parts in the box caught his eye. It wasn't uncommon to add purely superfluous upgrades to a companion...though he still found a few were bringing weird mental images into his mind's eye.

Like an entire set of 'kitten' gear, ears, tail, little claws, a cat bell, and a chip for giving her slitted eyes. The pieces could even be altered in color from her customization menu. There was also a bunny set as well, and more than a few collars. Gaster was definitely trying to send a message here, clearly, and that message was 'get laid'. Judging by some of the more racy outfits anyway.

Jeeze, there was even some stuff in here that baffled him... like a unicorn horn? Angel wings? Devil wings and a tail, all sorts of unsettling...  _ fetishy  _ outfit kinds, including instructions on how to alter her speech and voice modulators. There were even a few more mundane enhancements, like earpieces that sat on either side of her head, shaped roughly like a jet's wings or similar, these allowed for more access ports. There was also a few grey blindfolds that could be colour customized, .though they would turn bright red in the presence of law enforcement so that those in charge would know what her classification was. That would come in handy.

 

And way,  _ way  _ too many sex aids.

 

"Jesus  _ Christ  _ old man; I  _ get _ it, you want me to  _ bone _ something" Sans mumbled grumpily and sighed, leaning back.

Another chug of whiskey.

How much had he gone through at this point? It didn't even matter anymore.  _ Nothing _ really mattered.

He examined the girl's specs more closely, her battery was almost drained already...Gaster was right, she'd need either a new battery or a self-sustaining power unit, but those were finicky and expensive as hell, he wasn't even sure if it would fit with the custom installation that Gaster had completed. He regretted more than once not taking the position in the R&D department.

Her arms and legs from the shoulder and hip down were lightweight metallic alloy but made with synthetic skin that mimicked the real deal, the reason for this being safety, they could absorb impacts that regular human body parts couldn't; making them more durable, and she had an artificial heart and various other organ replacements or improvements to make her far more efficient. Naturally, both eyes were cybernetic cameras that he could actually see through with the right app, but that was more than a bit unnerving. This whole thing was like something out of uncanny valley. Maybe he could try it if he was a little bit more drunk.

 

That application...was a bit too creepy for him. Creepy, but may be useful in the future. If she got lost or something. It got lost. She got lost? Fuck, what was the right way to refer to 'em? Papyrus had always wanted a little sister or a kid. It felt more like he was keeping to Papyrus's wishes that way. It didn't matter what he called her –  _ it _ – but just referring to her as an object over and over again felt morally ambiguous at best. She looked like a real person as she slumbered. That complicated issues immensely. Maybe there was a program to remove the face.

Sans promptly cringed at the, quite frankly, absolutely  _ horrifying _ mental image and pushed it away to join his nightmares with its brothers.

 

In the middle of her neck was a series of ports that could be used to charge her battery, which was attached to her heart, these ports lead to her brain stem as well as her neural and spinal networks. Her entire spinal column had been replaced for a lightweight metallic replacement, and her bones had been reinforced with this same alloy, just in case. It improved the lifespan and durability of the companion. But she would grow eventually, meaning that she had to get replacements at some point to accommodate her. He didn’t want her feeling uncomfortable as she grew. If she even lasted that long. Maybe he’d had a few too many drinks.

To access the inner workings of a cyborg, one could open their back, where the skull and spinal column met, that was probably how Gaster was going to install the new battery. Maybe some kind of dual or hybrid unit? Installing a new battery was difficult and time-consuming, as it had to mesh with the power structure already present. Too much and the companion's systems could be fried or something broken if it was too heavy. Too little power and the companion wouldn't turn on at all. They wouldn't die per se...at least not immediately, their heart would continue to beat for some time after powering down, but if they didn't get plugged in and recharged, their heart would stop and their brain could get damaged. Companion batteries were so finicky. Why couldn't he have gotten a properly self-sufficient (albeit extremely expensive) model? Maybe Gaster was trying to tell him something, but he was too drunk to figure it out.

 

The brain was still important, and not replaceable in its entirety. As such in a reinforced skull, the brain sat in a cyberbrain shell that allowed the systems to interface with the brain itself. The memory wiping procedure was not widely known, in fact it was a closely guarded secret, for security purposes.

But the leftover memories were often corralled into digital black boxes to not distress or confuse a companion, allowing them to make new memories...though corralling such things was not always possible and sometimes failed, allowing a companion glimpses of who they were before all of this happened. He had seen more than one news story about a 'malfunctioning' Companion that had to be put down. It was never a pretty sight.

 

Normally after their sentence was complete, they'd be given a dossier on their past life, to help them readjust to new life. Many however couldn't handle it and sought out new owners to serve in a more unofficial capacity. It was very rare to see a former companion entirely independent. Maybe someday she wouldn't need him at all. Shaking it off, he looked back at her specs, forcing himself to focus on something else.

There was the infamous chip bank located at the base of the skull and could contain normally four chips, though you could add further expansions to include more. These chips were often hexagonal and some called them 'chip coins' for their appearance. Chip coins enhanced functionality, and granted new skills immediately, as opposed to having to have them downloaded or programmed, they could also grant very specific skills or personality quirks. Handy, but there were plenty of black market chips that circulated around, so he would rely solely on Gaster for now. He didn't like the idea in the slightest, but he liked the idea of getting some cheap back alley chip even less. She might have a malfunction, or hack, or get sick... maybe he really was getting too worried over this person.  _ Thing _ . Not a person. Just a companion.

 

The kitten set as an example had a speech modulation chip that caused her to meow and purr and would give her 'kittenish' qualities. Collars were also not unheard of in a companion, though they often displayed a companion's owner's symbol or a coat of arms. There were a variety of uses for them, some simply artistic.

Suddenly an image flipped up on screen...she was dreaming. He didn't even know that she  _ could  _ do that. Was that just another additional feature? How strange.

 

Yet Sans felt a bit...self-conscious, like he was prying into something deeply private, yet he couldn't turn away: it was a rare insight into a real companion's dream.

_ So, let's see if they really do dream of electric sheep _ he thought with a grin and watched the screen.

Sans saw the rain on the screen; she was dreaming of his house, everything accurately portrayed from her memory.

 

"Heya kiddo," her gaze turned upwards and he saw himself, and he looked ENORMOUS in her mind, practically a towering giant...or maybe that's just how someone so small saw everything. Sans certainly wasn't that big. Quite short compared to most monsters or even humans.

He saw a blue line emerge from his head, a faint blue outline around him, and the line lead to a small box that read 'SANS SKELETON: PRIMARY USER.'

"Saaans," she chirped and lifted her arms up, and Sans chuckled, scooping her up. That hadn't happened. Maybe it was something that she wanted? On that note...  _ could _ a Companion want? They were supposed to be mind-wiped. Keywords being 'supposed to be'

"There ya go, so ah... I gotcha something special.".

She cocked her head curiously and he saw various boxes of data appear on screen, one was accessing the internet for any purchases he may have made, another was scanning his email for clues and hints.

 

"What's that?" she wondered and just as the doorbell rang, her search turned up something in his bank account and highlighted it. Had she actually seen his bank account? Weird. "… Pizza!?" she squealed as Sans lead her to the door.

"You little cheater," he teased lightly.

There was a monster, an alligator there with a bored look, holding two pizza boxes and a smaller box on top. She sniffed the air and her scans came up with ingredients, cross-referencing those with the monster's uniform, "Big Box Pizza" she deduced that there was a Hawaiian and a pepperoni pizza with chocolate lava cakes. Sans didn't remember exactly where he had left receipts in the living room, she might have deciphered that from when she was cleaning and was now dreaming about it. Fascinating.

 

"You wanna pay the man?" Sans urged and she nodded, reaching out. The monster produced a debit scanner and she put her hand over the top, accessing his bank account and confirming payment for 2 large pizzas and a box of lava cakes instantaneously. It was like having a walking credit card.

"There we go," Dream Sans praised and took the pizza into one arm. “Thanks, bud.”

They closed the door and went back to the living room where he sat her down.

 

"There we go kiddo, now..." he threw on an old movie, a cartoon about talking horses, and she snuggled up to him, the blanket pulled close and he fed her pizza and some soda. Her face lit up like a candle in the dark, and Sans felt an odd pang in his chest yet again that he doused with more whiskey. He didn't need to be thinking right now, he just wanted to watch this dream and figure something out.

 

It was so painfully normal that sans couldn't understand the Companion's silly smile that her body wore.

"...Thank you, daddy..." she whispered quietly.

"Daddy...?" suddenly everything began to swim, "What makes you think  _ I'm _ your...DADDY!?" Sans found his virtual self replaced by a towering monstrosity, with a gout of fire pouring from its eyes and a curved grey mustache and pointed beard. "You LITTLE SLUT!" and he swung down at her-

 

The screen cut to black immediately. He glanced down somewhat worriedly to the silent figure on the floor.

She wasn't smiling anymore.

 

He felt a strong, almost overpowering urge to reach down and hug the girl. He wanted to. But would it even be okay? What if she woke up in the middle of it? He only gave Papyrus hugs. Giving them to someone else just felt like it was tainting his memory somehow. But that did nothing to still the urge. He desperately wanted to hold her, to keep her nightmares at bay, especially now that he had seen them. It was unnerving on a number of levels. That twisted man that his virtual self had transformed into… had it been someone that she knew before being reprogrammed? Why would he call her something awful like that? It made him feel queasy thinking about what her past life must have been like for her dreams to turn out like that. Or maybe it was just a random effect. It might not have anything to do with anything. He still felt a deep sadness for her, for what she had become, used to be, and might have been. Stars and stones he was still  _ way _ too sober for this.

  
  


The whole thing shook him, his mouth felt full of cotton and his insides clenched as he looked at her. He was struck by just how...strange it felt to violate her dreams like that, her most personal moments now his to observe. 

 

He felt like a voyeur. 

  
Was that demon-looking man with the beard and mustache from her past? Was he some creation of her head? What the hell going on?

  
  


Sans closed out of the dream, rattled. He shook his head a few times, staring down at the unconscious girl cradled beside his desk, plugged in and holding her knees close to her chest as if for warmth. Did Companions get cold? He wasn't even sure about that.

He rifled through as much of the data as he could, drunkenly trying to memorize what he was sure that he would forget the next morning. He wanted to ask Frisk what the dream was all about, but he didn't want to wake her just for that answer. She looked relatively peaceful; not the blank, empty expression that she wore for the short time that he had known her, but genuinely peaceful. How could someone be even remotely comfortable after a dream like that? Sans repressed a shudder, suddenly glad that he didn't have the capacity for facial hair. Whatever it was that she had been dreaming of, it had even startled Sans. Maybe she had a previous owner? But that didn't quite add up, something didn't click all the way and he was too drunk to figure it out. He gave another sigh and began shutting down the processes, his eye sockets lingering over some of the more...  _ racy _ options that were available settings. "... Dammit Gaster, I get it already," he grumbled to no one. "Insert pop a boner joke here. Ya creepy old fuck." But Sans left some of those windows open. For later... research purposes. Just in case.

 

Sans unplugged Frisk from the computers and carefully brushed her hair from her eyes. She stirred a little and he picked up the blindfold from the desk, carrying it with him in his pocket. She would be fine to sleep without it tonight. He carefully set her down on the floor beside the bed, plugging her long neck cord into a nearby socket so that she could charge properly. He clambered woozily into bed and collapsed face down, letting out his umpteenth sigh.

  
  
  


0-0-0-0-0

 

Seconds turned into minutes. Minutes turned into hours. He eventually rolled over and peeked off the edge of the bed, staring down through the dark at Frisk. Her face was a little scrunched up and she was huddling herself close, almost as if for warmth.  _ So they do get cold. _ Sans let out a weary breath and picked her up in his arms. She stirred suddenly, eyes bolting open and processing as much information as she could at once. He slowly placed a hand over her eyelids and hushed her. "It's okay. Go back to sleep."

 

She went limp almost immediately, head lolling back a little as her glowing blue eyes dimmed and rolled a little back into her head.  _ That _ had been more than a bit disturbing. He could literally  _ force _ her into unconsciousness? Interesting, to say the least. He wondered what else he could do. Then he pushed  _ that _ ugly little thought away to torment the rest of his subconscious and instead pulled her a little closer, careful not to unplug her, and gently laid her down beside him. He drew up the covers and took the time to tuck her in, just as he had done for Papyrus so many times. Surprisingly there was a tiny, almost unnoticed little smile on her lips, and Sans felt another pang in his soul that he didn't know how to register. It shouldn't bother him, she wasn't even a real  _ person _ anymore. And yet it did. It bothered him a lot.

 

Her hands would sometimes twitch in her sleep as she tried to hold herself. Instead of ignoring it further Sans just shook his head, drawing her a little closer and providing her warmth. He kept telling himself that the gesture was for  _ him _ , he was the one who benefitted from having a companion. That's all she was. Just... a little something to help clean and make him - no, not HIM, the house, of course - feel less empty inside. For once, he actually slept pretty well.

Sans awoke with the feeling of fingers on his ribs...it certainly explained the dreams. Dreams of a little girl with blue eyes who was FAR too eager to do whatever he wanted.

 

And he had been disturbingly willing to let her, though at times who wore the leash had been a bit...muddled.

But as he awoke he found her fingers intertwined with his ribs, her eyes closed and she drooled slightly as she ran her digits, smooth and soft, over his bony body, mumbling quietly to herself. She had, at some point, straddled his leg with her thighs and clutched him tightly.

Papyrus had  _ NEVER _ held him this tightly or this...possessively. NOBODY had. Was this a companion thing, or was it something solely unique to her?

Regardless...her fingers were clutching the ribs...and then one hand moved, and slipped beneath his rib cage and touched the inside of his spinal column, sending sparks of sensation exploding behind his eyes.

 

It was early, too early for him to bother getting up. He didn't  _ want _ to get up, not at this rate. Maybe he could just spend all day in bed. Again.

Although with Frisk this close, he wasn't necessarily complaining. He carefully started unplugging the cord from her back neck port and she let out a soft, ethereal moan as he did so. Sans blinked, her grip between his ribs tightening and loosening a little. A sly grin began to form over his face as he thought on it, the pressure rising. He carefully started to plug her back in only to slowly draw it out, and she let out another little moan with an accompanied shiver. Her grip tightened on him and her legs squeezed his thigh, her breath quickening. He finally pulled the cord completely, leaving her quivering as if from the cold before he quietly brushed the hair from her eyes.

...  _ Interesting. _

 

She sighed softly and squeezed her thighs again. "Saa~aans..." she mumbled and nuzzled his rib cage. Sans felt like a filthy, dirty sinner. It felt... good.

Sans ran a hand down her neck, phalanges trailing over her exposed port. He wondered if he should actually keep that closed, but from the way that she shivered when he touched it persuaded him otherwise. Her face scrunched a little as she chewed her bottom lip, hands on his ribs tightening a little. He slipped his other hand down her exposed arm, wondering if she had neurological implants to feel the augmentations. Knowing Gaster, probably. His fingers trailed down to the small of her back and she shivered again, letting out a tiny mewl.  _ Now would be a good time to stop and never think about this again. Oh, hey, thanks, thoughts, I'll keep that in mind; ha, get it, keep it in mind? Okay no but seriously there is something deeply morally wrong about this and oh god she's getting handsy don't move and pretend to be asleep- _

 

Her eyes opened and she looked up at his face, eyes closed and pretending to be asleep, her gaze traveling down his body and then she reached and he felt her fingers stroking his pelvis.

 

Sans's breath hitched as her fingertips slowly traced circles beneath his shorts. Her eyes were half-lidded at glowing dimly with a blue light, the odd little tilt had returned. However, instead of just staring blankly like he expected her to, she had a strange, partially formed smile twitching at her lips, like she was trying to keep from showing any emotion at all. It was odd, to say the least. His mind was gradually beginning to slip away with the sensation, giddiness in his chest that he hadn't felt in forever. Just feeling their gentle strokes was beginning to send him close to the edge, his thoughts filtering away like water through a sieve. He forced himself to stay calm, half wanting to fall asleep under their careful touch and half wanting to... give in. And he was definitely leaning toward the latter by now.

"... Would you like to give me further instructions?" Frisk whispered, craning her neck to give that lilting little smile again. 

_ Say no. Say no, oh god this is messed up, what in the actual fuck is wrong with me just say no- _

"S-sure. Yeah. Yeah, I would," Sans mumbled almost incoherently. He was still partially drunk and impeding his thoughts. Maybe he could blame the massive amounts of alcohol. Maybe. 

 

"Wh-what would you suggest?" he asked quietly. "Got any opinions on that...?" 

"I-" she paused momentarily, looking just a bit saddened before her face drained of emotion entirely. "I am not allowed opinions. You need merely state your desire and I shall fulfill it to the best of my ability."

 

_ You have way, way too much control over this person. ... Oh god, why does that turn me on- _ "Okay," Sans shook the thoughts from his head, feeling heat in his cheeks. "My desire is that from now on you have opinions on things."

Frisk froze up.

"... Ah,  _ shit _ ."

_ Congratulations, jackass, you haven’t even had her a full day and you’ve already broken her. Gaster is gonna flip his shit. _

Her face finally twisted a bit until it stretched into a small grin, her eyes glowing even more brightly than before. Her grip on him slithered down his ribs with one hand, making him shiver as her other hand trailed over his pelvis teasingly, her needful smile piercing the dark just as much as her eyes. "It is of my opinion..." Frisk whispered huskily, licking her lips slowly. "That I should make you as happy as I possibly can. Please, Sans... I need instructions. I need  _ orders _ ..."

 

Her eyes looked up at him, a brilliant azure glow and he was dimly aware that he would never be able to look at that colour again without thinking of her face, and that little teasing smile that seemed so out of place...yet so perfect on her face. In a way, he was almost jealous of her...just do what he said, or what she wanted...no worries, no fears...just obedience. Obeying him. Constantly...unquestioningly. Willingly. A glow began to emanate from between his legs and his cheeks turned cerulean. "I'll be anything you want," she whispered, her fingers stroking over his body, "Just tell me who to be."

 

Sans's mind was racing at a million miles an hour.

She could be that cute bunny store owner a few blocks away. He could probably program her for that. She could be as saucy and flirty as that Muffet woman. Probably an expert with her hands. She could be Grillby for him. He wondered if she would survive being on fire. Probably not. She could be-  _ She will never replace him. Not now, not ever. Nobody can replace him. She is NOT a replacement. She's just a toy. Don't think about it. Just an object. Just... have fun before you sober up. _

 

"Sa~ans… master...?" She leaned closer, her sapphire eyes boring into his skull, "... Daddy?"

Sans felt a hot, almost painful spike in his chest, a powerful addictive feeling that washed over him just as strongly as the intense guilt.

"I...need breakfast," he squeaked promptly and her eyes just shimmered as she quickly slithered out of the bed and retrieved her blindfold, leaving to cook for him in that same grey leotard.

 

Sans stared up at the ceiling, panting heavily, his soul pounding in his chest.

_ What are you doing? God that was close. What are you even doing? What in the actual fuck are you doing? _

He shook his head fiercely and sat up, still feeling dizzy and a little ill, though from what he couldn't (or wouldn't) pin down. He fumbled to grab his slippers, stumbling shakily to the kitchen to get a bit more of the hair of the dog that bit him.

 

Frisk was happily humming a tuneless song as she stood on the chair cooking for him as if nothing had happened at all. Her bare legs glinted in the morning light filtering in through the windows, a small circular addition to each thigh shining brightly. Probably for some other attachments, he had a metric ton to go through before he actually read them all.  _ Christ Gaster, _ he thought numbly to himself as he almost dropped the coffee that Frisk had brewed.

_ I swear to god you're trying to kill me, old man. _

He sat at the table and drank heavily from his mug, at which point Frisk merely tilted her head and looked at him.

 

"Is the morning coffee brewed to your satisfaction?" she asked quietly. "One hundred and seventy degrees Fahrenheit and your eggs and bacon shall be fully prepared in approximately two minutes and thirty seconds."

"Yeah," he tried to say calmly, the tightness in his shorts distracting him from thinking clearly as he sat down, trying to keep it from showing. The blue dusting in his cheeks wasn't helping matters. "You're-you're doin' great, kid." She wordlessly bowed her head a bit, and when she came back up her face was a little redder with a tiny smile.

_ What in the actual fuck is wrong with you Sans - actually no, I need to have a chat with the old man about some of these damned 'presets'... _

 

This was...this was strange, companions normally didn't develop new personalities this fast. Personality development was inevitable, they weren't machines; cyborgs? Yes, machines? No. But they were supposed to be relatively mindless. It would have made things easier, but Sans was absolutely repulsed at the idea of destroying what personality she had. It just felt... wrong. Everything felt wrong. Just another thing he needed to chat up old crack face about.

 

But on the other hand, many owners reset their companions to prevent quirks...the idea made his stomach churn. Imagine having your memories, your identity wiped just because you were a little odd. It was nightmarish, without a doubt. He wondered briefly if Frisk had the capacity to be afraid.

And she smiled at him, a tiny smile...but it was there.

He watched as she padded over to retrieve his bacon and eggs.

"You better make yourself some too," he quickly added, "You need ta eat as well."

She nodded, her long apron rubbing against her feet.

...Gaster hadn't included a maid uniform...but finding one wouldn't be that hard ri-

"Sans?" She looked back curiously, "Why did you slap yourself? Do you require medical assistance? Are you attempting to 'knock yourself out' with breakfast?"

He cleared his throat awkwardly.

"No. I'm good, you jus' keep doin' your thing."

 

Frisk hardly ate at all until he specifically instructed her to eat more. She was looking a little sick at the prospect so he rescinded the comment, earning a grateful look from her. He didn't want her to feel ill, but the thought of her starving, or residing solely on companion paste alone... it left a foul feeling in his stomach. She should be able to eat normally, at least. He did not care for the thought of her going hungry just because he had forgotten to allow her to eat. His mind was racing the entire way to the lab. Even the  _ idea _ that he had that much control over her was a little... overwhelming. And yet simultaneously, he... kind of liked the idea, in a twisted, mad fashion. She would do literally anything he told her to, even if that involved walking right into traffic-

 

"Sans?" 

"Yeah, hey, what's up kid." 

 

"I do not mean to disturb you my master, but you have been staring at the front door for seven minutes and I believe that others find this 'socially awkward' and I do not wish for your reputation amongst your peers to be tarnished."

 

Sans shook his head again and swiped his key card, allowing him entrance to the lab with Frisk in tow. He really was distracted and her calling him ‘Master’ had made his body feel...well...even more distracted. How was he even going to be able to focus on work at this point...?

 

Gaster turned around in surprise and stared at Sans, a clipboard in one hand and a coffee in another. The scientist looked at his watch, then up at the clock on the wall, back to Sans, back down to his watch and once more back to the skeleton.   
  
“Gods above and below...Sans Skeleton; here early, dressed and without his slippers. What madness is this? What insanity has gripped my poor lab?” lamented the head scientist with an uncharacteristic dramatic tone. 

 

“Yeah, yeah, yuck it up.” the skeleton rolled his eyes, “The ah..the kid was a big help gettin’ me up this morning.”    
  
_ Amongst other things. _

 

“But ah, doc? I had a few questions for ya.” Gaster’s attitude returned to his normal stern expression as he studied Sans’ curiously uncomfortable stance, and the way his companion tilted her head and looked about - not unlike a kitten. 

“Very well Sans, come to my office we can talk in private there. I presume this concerns your Companion?”

 

Sans was struck by how odd it was to speak about her as if she wasn’t standing a foot behind him, clutching a bag containing his pink fluffy slippers. 

 

“Yeah Doc, I got some questions an’ I thought it’d be best to go right to the source.” 

 

For all his professionalism, Gaster did like having his ego stroked and discussing Companions, and a conversation with the potential to do both greatly pleased the tall skeletal scientist. He even seemed to be in an even more chipper mood after he had brought it up.

 

“Very well, this way.”

 

Gaster’s office overlooked the labs, with large glass windows behind his desk where he could lord over the scientists with a critical eye.

 

Sans took a seat across from Gaster, then nodded to a second chair.   
  
“Grab a seat kid, erm...and sit in it” he quickly added, he REALLY needed some way to address her tendency to take his speech literally. Maybe he could program that in? He briefly wondered if she had the capacity to understand things like euphemisms or sarcasm.

 

Frisk obediently placed the chair back on the ground and sat on it, hands folded in her lap and ankles crossed: looking like an astute little student sitting with a parent before the principal. 

 

_ Don’t go there Sans _ his head warned him, but it was already a bit late for that. 

 

Gaster noticed the interaction and raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment on it further. 

 

“So...Sans, what is it? Is your Companion acting how you expected it to?”

 

Sans scratched his head, feeling very uncomfortable, though the reason why somewhat escaped him; he was struggling to get behind this idea of seeing Companions as objects, they were just too...animated, or at least Frisk was. Or could be. 

 

“Yeah, I just...what did you put in her, doc?” Sans demanded, “She was...I... _ gah _ how the he...ah,” his eyes darted to Frisk who turned her head and tilted it once more at her owner and Sans swallowed, “Heck. How the heck do I explain this?”

 

Gaster’s eyes followed the interplay and a small smile creased his features,

 

“Interesting…

  
  


“What?” Sans gave him a short glower. “Ain’t right to swear in front of fuckin’ kids. Oh. Uh. In-in front of kids.”

Frisk was wearing that same little lilting smile with her head just a bit tilted, earning a very strange glance from Gaster.

“Swear jar,” Frisk whispered audibly.

“... Fascinating,” Gaster’s eye lights were practically twinkling at this point, his grin widening. “You’ve been teaching it, Sans?”

 

“You’re avoiding my question,” he replied hastily. “What did ya put in the kid?”

“Oh, just some little additions that I thought you might enjoy,” he rolled a holed hand through the air as if he were talking about a computer upgrade. Which to Gaster, maybe that’s all it was. The thought didn’t sit too well with Sans. “Have you gone through them all yet?” he leaned forward somewhat eagerly, propping his elbows up on his desk.

“I mean, just…” Sans shifted uncomfortably. “Come on, man.  _ Kitty _ ears? Is all of that stuff really necessary?”   
Gaster snorted. Actually  _ snorted. _

“Sans, please,” he rolled his eye lights. “You aren’t fooling anyone. I have  _ seen _ your browser history.”

Heat shot up through his bones and flushed across his cheeks, though he struggled very, very hard to keep a neutral expression.

 

“I’m afraid that I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Sans desperately tried to remember if he had cleared everything off of his work computer.

Frisk was rifling through something that he couldn’t see, probably a connection to his personal computer from the look on their face, light playing out in front of their eyes, forming screens and images that moved too quickly for Sans to catch, some kind of magical holoprojector built into her body? Her eyebrows slowly raised after a few moments, turning her head toward Sans with a look that he couldn’t decipher.

 

“... Kid,  _ please _ tell me that you didn’t just go through my browser history.”

“I did not just go through your browser history.”

“Are - was that a lie?”

“You told me to tell you that I did not go through your browser history.”

Gaster was silently  _ giggling _ , holding a holed hand over his wide mouth and staring at Sans.

 

“You’re just getting a real kick outta this, aren’tcha,” he glowered at him, utterly unamused. Granted, if it had been happening the other way around, he probably would have found it hilarious.

“Your discomfort is my nectar and ambrosia,” Gaster stated smugly. “Serves you right for sneaking food coloring into the coffee machine.”   
“Are you  _ still _ on about that?” Sans crossed his arms in an attempt to look grumpy, but a small grin was slowly crawling onto his face. Frisk watched his expression the entire time, tilting her head just a bit. “Look, I didn’t expect you ta be the first one to the coffee, alright? I just thought Alphys would look really funny with bright blue teeth.”

“Took me all day to get that out,” Gaster’s curved eye sockets narrowed a little, and Sans shifted just a bit uneasily. The man had a sense of humor, but when he looked at him like that he suddenly felt like a lab rat. He did not care for the feeling.

 

Sans noticed more blue energy screens appearing in front of the girl’s face, but they moved too fast for him to figure out what she was doing, thankfully, however, it provided Gaster with a new distraction, the tall scientist’s eyes locked onto the young girl.

 

“Extraordinary.” he smiled, clearly pleased with...whatever he had seen, though Sans found that he didn’t like being left out of the loop, especially where his Companion was involved.

 

“What?” the short skeleton tried to shake the feeling of being a college student who had to be told everything, “What is it? What’s she doing?” 

 

Gaster smiled, steepling his fingers,    
  
“She’s accessing personnel files, and cross-referencing public system data. Most Companions are still in ‘training wheels’ mode, but she’s taking to this like a fish to water. Look at her go…” 

 

From ‘it’ to ‘her’...Sans filed that tidbit away for later and looked back at Frisk, where the screens continued to bloom and vanish in front of her face before finally all freezing on an image of Gaster looking very upset and glowering down at Sans with brilliant blue teeth.

 

And she giggled.

“She… laughed,” Gaster blinked at Frisk with a stunned expression, turning his stare to Sans for a moment before flipping back to Frisk. “She can  _ laugh. _ ”

“Uh. Yeah…?” Sans felt uneasy from the almost predatory gaze that Gaster was giving her, feeling an odd pang of protectiveness. “Is that not… normal? I mean I’ve never had a Companion, I didn’t think it was that big a deal if she like, smiles or gets happy or-”   
“She can be  _ happy? _ ” Gaster was almost jumping out of his seat in excitement at this point. “Personality development is slow, Sans;  _ very _ slow in Companions, they’re designed that way. But for her to already have established a sense of humor? Did you program this in last night?”

 

“Uh,” he said again, the epitome of eloquence. “... No?”

“Fascinating,” he said over and over again, standing and leaning over Frisk. She shrank a little in the seat but other than that didn’t move an inch. “Sans, do you mind if I run a couple of experiments on the prototype?”   
“Why?” Sans said defensively.   
“Oh it’s nothing big,” he shrugged simply. “You can install a new personality after I’ve finished investigating this one-”   
“No!” he shot up almost immediately, earning a confused look from Gaster. He flinched and sat down again awkwardly, clearing his throat. “I-I mean… no. No, doc. I don’t want you to experiment at all on my-”  _ shit I almost said, kid _ \- “... Companion.”

“Are you sure?” Gaster was looking just as flabbergasted as he was disappointed. “I mean, it’s just a couple of tweaks here and there, most of the personality would survive the transfer.”   
“Not the point,” Sans’s face went blank, his skeletal eyebrows narrowing a little. “Just… let me figure it out myself.”   
“Ah. Yes, of course,” Gaster reseated himself, nodding with his little smile returning. “You wish to discover as much as you can without assistance. A sentiment that I value, integrity in discovery.”

 

Sans just shrugged internally and let him believe what he would. It was quiet for a few more long moments.

 

“Are you  _ sure _ I can’t just run a couple of tests?” Gaster pried again hopefully.

“I, well, uh. Later?” Sans rubbed the back of his neck uneasily. He  _ did _ owe Gaster an awful lot. “Just… promise you won’t mess with her head.”

“Your Companion will be just the same as before,” he said amicably.

“I… I still dunno about all of… this,” Sans shifted in his seat again. “I mean… don’t-don’t you think she’s a little, I dunno…  _ young _ to be a Companion? You mean ta say that don’t bother you? At all?”

“It is a bit odd, yes,” Gaster shrugged distractedly, his focus almost entirely on Frisk yet again. “Not the first case, although they are rare. I’m surprised you weren’t more interested in the blindfold color. Why do you ask, Sans?” his gaze finally turned back to the shorter skeleton, and once again Sans got the sudden feeling of being inspected.

 

“I just...I don’t…” Gaster looked back at Sans and rubbed his chin in thought.

“...You said she showed happiness, right?” The scientist once more adopting the mentor role he had taken when he first took Sans under his wing...dings.

 

Sans nodded slowly, 

 

“I mean yeah, she seemed happy enough, she even hummed a little and smiled” Gaster could have been knocked over with a feather. 

 

“She..hummed. You said she hummed...and smiled…” Again they were back at Frisk’s behavior...well, better the focus on her than on Sans himself, but still…

 

“Yeah, is that so weird?” Sans demanded, and Gaster regarded his friend for a moment before making for the door.

 

“Bring your companion with me, right now.”

 

Down the grey corridors they went, Gaster setting a hurried pace while Sans held Frisk’s little hand so she wouldn’t get lost.

 

It was warm, her fingers clutching at his digits. 

 

All the grey halls looked the same, all the doors, the only way to find your way was experience or to follow the maps occasionally displayed on a wall, which seemed to be the only exception to Gaster’s prohibition on colour. 

 

They came to a halt at a lab, and Gaster opened the door,

 

“Sans, there is an observation room one room over, go there and wait for me, i’ll be right back. Go… go!” the tall scientist shooed his friend towards the room, and pulled Frisk into the lab. It had items strewn about, as it had been used somewhat recently...nothing overly serious but enough that the last person to use it would get a firm scolding for leaving a messy workplace. 

 

Gaster turned to leave when the girl suddenly piped up.

 

“What am I supposed to do?” she prodded in that confused lilt, and Gaster smiled an eager and delighted grin.

 

“Well my dear...whatever you wish!” he then left and locked the door, as Frisk turned back towards the lab with a frown. 

 

The door to the observation room opened as Gaster strode in, hastily grabbing a camera and setting it up to face the inside of the lab while Sans looked on, increasingly bewildered. It was very rare to see Gaster this worked up about  _ ANYTHING _ let alone one little prototype companion. 

 

“The subject is Sans Skeleton’s personal companion,” Gaster spoke loud enough for the camera to pick up his voice, “According to Sans, she has been in his ownership for less than 1 day. By all accounts, she went through a standard Companion Conversion Program and was placed into sleep mode until being sent to him. Now…”   
  
He watched attentively as the girl looked around the room. 

 

“I have given her the instruction to ‘do whatever you wish’...already The Subject is looking around. She is showcasing none of the normal companion static behavior, no sign of Training Wheels anywhere.”   
  
Frisk began to move after several seconds and picked up a beaker, before looking around the room, the artificial light glinting off of her bright red blindfold as she studied her surroundings...then walked to a shelf and placed the beaker on it. 

 

“YES!” Gaster rubbed his bony hands together eagerly, eye sockets wide and the lights inside dancing about.

 

“A voluntary action to an abstract instruction. Earlier the subject found a picture of me with blue teeth and giggled at it, showcasing a sense of humor! Again, she has been an active companion for less than  _ one  _ day!” 

 

Sans finally had to pipe up, looking to the almost manic doctor.

 

“What’s the big deal doc? OKay, so she’s cleanin’ up the lab an’ giggled at a funny picture. People do that kinda thing you know.”   
  
Gaster rounded on Sans like a viper, his eyes gleaming the same way they did when he had made a truly remarkable discovery.

 

“Yes Sans, PEOPLE do it. NOT Companions.” the tall scientist turned back to the room, watching Frisk gathering garbage and putting it into the trash bin.   
  
“Companion’s are nearly devoid of all memory. They cannot by definition  _ understand  _ abstract concepts. When you told her not to tell you that she had looked through your browser history, and she repeated it back, THAT is what they’re SUPPOSED to do. They don’t understand sarcasm, euphemisms or abstract ideas like happiness or fear or anger because they have no experience with it,” he watched as Frisk began to hum and fiddled with the camera.

 

“She’s humming...sh-she’s actually humming…” Gaster’s fingers flexed, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. “It’s not entirely random...there is a routine melody...does she remember it from somewhere or is she making it up as she goes?”

 

Gaster rounded back onto his friend, looking at him critically,

 

“What did you say to her, Sans? What order did you give?”

 

Sans wracked his brain, not wanting to be under the Doctor’s microscope any longer than needed.

 

“Well...nothin’ really, i jus’ told her that I wanted her ta have her own opinion’s.” Gaster looked visibly confused and turned back to the screen where Frisk was finishing up her work before sitting on a chair and swinging her legs, humming quietly as she waited. 

 

“...Sans..it can’t be that simple.” challenged Gaster his fingers curling as they touched the glass, “It… can’t just be  _ that  _ simple”

 

Sans was exasperated and threw his hands up.

 

“Why? What’s so strange about all of this?”  demanded the short skeleton in agitation, as Gaster sat heavily on a chair, watching the girl hum away like any ordinary human child might.

 

“...What’s wrong with it is that it SHOULD be impossible. The Training Wheels Program  _ should  _ be guiding her, giving her direction on how to follow instruction. The Training Wheels Program should BE her personality; stiff and robotic! As a Companion learns, the training wheel program slowly turns off, when they have enough experience that they missed after their memories being wiped. But this normally takes MONTHS Sans. If not years. And she’s accomplishing it in… moments. Just  _ fascinating. _ ”    
  
Gaster looked back at his stunned friend, “Months before the smallest inkling of a personality appears, a little smile on occasion, or realizing that a colour is pleasing, they have the intellectual development of an infant propped up by rigid computer programming.”   
  
Gaster took a shaky breath and they heard a click from the room, turning back they saw Frisk re-arranging the beakers so that the light refracting off the glass formed a rainbow that smeared itself across the otherwise featureless, grey wall.

 

A smile blossomed on Frisk’s face and the little companion sat back in her chair, smiling happily at the rainbow lights.

 

“...To develop any degree of personality so fast should not be possible...to understand humor? To like a colour? To hum a tune and laugh? That shouldn’t...shouldn’t be  _ possible _ . Your Companion is extremely unique Sans…”   
  
The weight of the situation was starting to sink into the short skeleton who looked down at the little girl, humming and kicking her feet under the chair. 

 

“...What does it mean Doc?” 

 

Gaster shook his head, eyes never breaking from the little companion sitting in the chair, 

 

“I have no idea, Sans.”   
  
Silence reigned for several seconds, as both tried desperately to come to terms with the stunning revelation before them.

 

“Well…” Sans suggested after a moment, a slight grin splitting his face, “One thing’s for sure...she thinks your colour scheme sucks, too.” 

 

0-0-0-0-0

  
  


“Alright, kiddo,” Sans finished up his latest additions to the blueprints. He could send them over to Alphys when he was done adding the final touches. Maybe he was a bit of a perfectionist in those regards. When Frisk didn’t answer immediately he snapped his fingers and she jolted out of her reverie, the lights that had been whirring behind her blindfold lowering to an almost unnoticeable dim glow. “Kid? Uh…  _ Frisk? _ ” Sans said a little louder.

 

“Yes Sans,” she straightened up significantly. Sans just shook his head and unplugged the cord from the back of her neck, making her stiffen up just a bit as he removed it. “I am ready and willing to obey your instructions, my master.”

She said it with total conviction like there wasn’t a doubt in her mind.

For some reason, it made him… just a little sad. Along with another, darker feeling that he  _ really _ didn’t want to acknowledge.

“You, uh… you know you don’t have ta call me that, right?” her head tilted to the side in that confused manner as he slipped some of the blueprints into his pockets to work on later. Not officially, but the designs for some of the Companion sets could come in handy. He wanted to understand as much as he could about this little… what was he even supposed to call her? It didn’t feel right to call her his kid. It wasn’t like he was  _ adopting _ her or something. Companions weren’t even considered people by the legal extent of the law, even though there were several protections in place for them. Or rather, their owners. But it didn’t feel right calling her his Companion, even somewhat insulting in some regards. She wasn’t quite a person. Not quite a Companion. Somewhere in between, maybe. So where did that leave him standing on the moral spectrum? There was just too much that didn’t feel right like he was walking a tightrope over a deep abyss and he did not care for the feeling at all.

 

“Come on, kid,” Sans rolled his shoulder. Frisk stood without hesitation, hands folding neatly in front of her as she stood beside him like she was waiting for him to move first. Although she probably was, on second thought. 

 

“Ah…” Sans felt strange, and finally reached down, taking her hand into his, “Come on kid… stay close.”   
  
“Yes… Sans?” the skeleton lifted a bony eyebrow, and she lifted her head to look up at him through the scarlet blindfold. Her brows furrowed a bit as if in concentration, sliding from behind the red nanofiber cloth. He really did need to have the settings tweaked. He wasn’t all that sure of how comfortable he was walking around with her wearing a red blindfold. Not for his sake, but for hers. She was certain to get more than a few looks for it. He didn’t even know why he was getting defensive on her behalf about a situation that hadn’t even happened yet.

 

“You said not to call you master,” she explained quietly, and once more Sans was struck by the oddity of the situation. Ever since Gaster had made him aware of the unique nature of his Companion, Sans had been more sensitive to how unusual she could act at times. 

 

This was one such time. 

 

She had, again, made a decision based on the information provided to her. For a Companion, that was impressive; for a Companion who had just hit her 24 hour anniversary, wasn’t that downright...impossible?   
  
Yet here it was, it JUST happened. Again.

 

“Ah...yeah, sure. Sans is better than Master anyways. It sounds less… uh. Never mind,” he tried to look relaxed, and wondered if the kid was capable of reading body language; thankfully, she didn’t seem to be able to. 

 

Yet.

 

He wondered if he would ever feel comfortable with someone (something? Might be easier that way) calling him ‘master’. It just felt... strange. She shivered as they stepped out into the cool spring air, and Sans regarded her again; she’d need clothes, better ones than a grey leotard and no shoes: it felt like he was carting around a stray. 

 

_ And maybe a collar too  _ Sans’s mind suggested traitorously, accompanied by an image of the girl in a cute collar, one complete with a little cat bell.

 

_ Shut UP brain, _ Sans fired back,  _ I don’t need to be thinking about THAT kind of stuff. She’s just a Companion. _

 

His mind’s rebellious response was that of bunny ears, a bunny tail, and a little black leotard, looking up at him with those inhumanly intense blue eyes, the image made Sans face flush a deep blue.

 

_ No, no, no, NO! This is NOT right! She’s a KID, _ He fired back desperately,  _ I’m NOT like that! _ Which was only the half-truth, and in an argument with oneself, you couldn’t hide your feelings and thoughts. It wasn’t so much that he was afraid of having an argument with himself. It was when he began losing arguments against himself that he started to get worried. And at the moment, he was on the precipice of losing several arguments. Maybe he could just shove it all to the back of his mind. Along with everything else that haunted him. Stars help him he could feel the filthy sins already crawling on his back.

 

_ She’s like a little puppy, isn’t she? So eager to please, so...willing. _ Sans swallowed, his mouth felt like it was full of cotton. His tongue felt like sandpaper, he couldn’t think properly. Part of him really didn’t want to, anyway. He wanted to drift away with his terrible thoughts, let the guilt come back later when he was drunk enough to deal with it. He didn’t want to be sober and pondering things he’d really rather not know about himself.

 

_ And there’s nothing wrong with it either, she’s a Companion. She’s meant to serve you in every...way...imaginable.  _

 

Sans’ eye sockets widened and his jaw clenched and-

“Sans?” the tiny voice sliced through his muddled thoughts, shaking him from his murky morals. “Are you feeling well?”

“Yeah,” Sans lied quickly, wiping his face of all emotion. “Of course I am, kiddo.” He ran his phalanges over the papers lining his inner pocket, his mind whirling. But he could get to those later. “Come on, buddy. Might as well go get you some clothes. Can’t go walking around like that all the time, can ya?”

Frisk just glanced at him with what have might been uneasiness, but the look was gone when he tried to examine it. Sans just let out a sigh and held the door open for them to the clothing department store. It was a large, warehouse-like building, almost intimidatingly large. Frisk, however, didn’t seem to be bothered, turning her head around over and over to take in as many sights through their blindfold as she could. Sans couldn’t help but grin at her excited look, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet. He even saw her mouth twitch upwards a couple of times, like she was… trying to remember how to smile. She really was like no other Companion. It filled his mind with questions, but he didn’t care.

 

They searched for clothes that she carried, and Sans felt intensely guilty for having her carry it all. Her arms were stacked with boxes containing striped (and other) clothes, and he shook his head as she inspected particular clothing articles describing different prices for identical pieces. Maybe having a Companion wasn’t such a bad idea. He hadn’t even had her a week and she was already saving him money. Not that money was a problem, he was well off from work at the lab, but she was still being useful no matter when. Another pang of guilt hit him out of nowhere like he wasn’t even appreciating her for all she had done. A few more drinks tonight would get rid of that easily though. She was a Companion. It didn’t  _ matter  _ whether or not he appreciated her. Right? Right. He just had to keep repeating that to himself. He paid for the entire stack of clothing (he didn’t even see all that she had gotten, he all but would have gotten them the entire store if she so much as asked) when she held out her palm, letting the scanner do the work as his bank account was drained just a bit more. He didn’t mind, though, if it meant that she would have something comfortable to wear. Could she even feel comfort? She was a Companion. There were a lot of things that she wasn’t supposed to be able to feel, but she did anyway.

 

Frisk carried all of the boxes as they left the department store until Sans finally sighed.

“... Lemme get a couple of those,” he said a bit sheepishly. Frisk tilted her head a little in confusion but complied nonetheless, and he pulled a few rectangular boxes stacked higher than her head until it was somewhat more manageable. He tucked them under his arm and motioned with his head for her to follow, and they made their way down the street in relative silence.

 

“So…” Sans said as he trudged along, listening to the quiet tapping of Frisk’s feet behind him. At least he had gotten her new shoes that she could wear, simple little black flats with a red bow adorning each one. “I, uh, know your type is supposed ta stay behind and all that, but d’you mind, like… walking up here, with me? It’s hard to talk to you when you’re right behind me.”

Frisk silently picked up the pace, striding as well as she could to keep up with his even gait. He wasn’t long-legged, but he wanted to get home as efficiently as he could without shortcutting. Frisk was quiet until he engaged them again, which he really should have expected.

 

“You like any of the new clothes?” Sans tried to ask conversationally.

“I have found them adequately fitting in the majority, and I do hope that you find them aesthetically pleasing.”

“Not what I asked, but…” Sans ran a hand over the back of his skull, thinking. “So. Uh. How-how ‘bout that weather?”

“My reports indicate that the average temperature is eighty-two degrees Fahrenheit with a slight chance of precipitation for this evening.”

“Do you take everything literally?”

“Was that a literal question, or was that rhetorical?”

 

That was a weird sign. More questions. It indicated that she actually understood rhetoric in the first place. Sans was silent as he mused, drumming his phalanges across the white boxes as he approached his home. A small grin started to grow on his face as he crossed the threshold, unlocking the door and allowing Frisk in first. Paps was going to lose it when he saw-

The smile faded from him instantly.

 

The house just felt… cold. Empty without someone in it, but at least it was significantly cleaner, if not spotless already. Papyrus would have loved it. Not the part about having a Companion do all the work, but at having a clean house. Papyrus had always been so tidy in comparison to him.

Sans shook of that particular train of thought, his mind feeling heavy as the weight in his chest. He silently dropped the boxes onto the living room table, closing the door with his foot and dragging himself to the kitchen. He had actually worn shoes today; granted they were ones with velcro instead of laces, but he was working up to that. He switched them out for his favorite slippers, drawing out a large bottle of whiskey to silence his unruly thoughts. He sat in complete silence for a while, letting his mind wander. At least, until he had gotten a few stiff drinks in; he finally got up and glanced into the living room. Frisk was still standing there with her blindfold on, silently, with her feet together and the boxes stacked in her arms.

 

“... Shit,” Sans groaned. “You’re, uh. Waiting for instructions, aren’t you.”

Frisk nodded once.

“Alright,” Sans sighed once, tucking his hands into his jacket pockets. “Go ahead and set those with the others, then come and get something to eat with me.”

Frisk complied wordlessly and followed him into the kitchen. Sans started pulling out hot dogs just as Frisk was gathering ingredients, and they both stared at each other for a moment.

 

“Uh,” Sans blinked. “Go ahead and sit at the table for now. I’m cookin’ for you this time.”   
Again she gave him that little head tilt, and he could have sworn that he saw the edges of her lips twitch upwards, just a little, but the look was gone when he tried to examine it. A large part of him wistfully longed to see what it was like for her to really smile. Companions didn’t do that, at least not without being commanded to. But ordering her to smile, regardless of how much he wanted to see it, just felt… wrong. There was so much about this that felt horribly  _ wrong _ . But that wasn’t really stopping him before, so why bother now? He shrugged off the heavy thoughts. He was still way too sober for contemplation.

The little one sat quietly while Sans struggled to find something to ask, it wasn’t a lack of topics but rather the loss of the familiarity. With Papyrus he found it so easy to interact with him… though granted; most of the time it was antagonizing his younger brother with bad jokes or laziness that drove the diligently-minded Papyrus to madness. 

 

How he missed Papyrus’ frustrated yowls and impassioned scolding and what he wouldn’t give just to hear him come through the door and start yelling at him for something… Gods, what he wouldn’t give. 

 

He froze, as he heard a soft whistling behind him, and the short skeleton turned to see the kid staring out the window, watching birds flying about as she watched a pair of birds playing outside, her head tilting back and forth.   
  
_ Like an eager bunny. _

 

He ignored that thought and stared at the child… and then Sans just chuckled and scooped a pair of hot dogs onto some buns and added some cheese and ketchup with a handful of chips to the plate and scooped a bottle of monster cola from the fridge. It was all monster food, naturally, and he wasn’t sure if the kid would like it or not… but anything was better than that paste. If it tasted half as bad as it smelled, he really did not envy her.

 

“Here kid,” He put it down on the table for her and joined with a bottle of ketchup, and began to eat...but she hadn’t touched her food after a full minute and Sans sighed, putting down the ketchup bottle and rubbing his mouth.

 

“Alright kid, we’re gonna have to address this ‘you not eatin’ til yer told thing’,” Sans shook his head, “Anytime you’re given food, ya don’t need my permission to eat… just eat it, okay?” he nibbled at some chips, “Also if yer hungry, then make yerself somethin’ ta eat, jus’ don’ burn the house down, capiche?”   
  
The girl tilted her head to one side, then the other like a curious bunny, then gave a nod, the ends of her blindfold flapping, and she picked up her hot dog and bit into it. The fragile look on her face was how Sans imagined a purr to look if you gave it a face and the short skeleton was suddenly struck with curiosity: how would she look without that blindfold on? 

 

Companions relied on them to filter what they saw, so their minds weren’t overloaded by too much visual data, and though they looked like a normal strip of fabric they were actually thousands of tiny, soft wires that were bound together around microprocessors that took the strain off of the companion’s eyes and cerebral implants. 

 

Without it on, a Companion’s built-in computer would try to identify and provide information on everything that the companion was looking at, from the clouds to the individual people on the street, the wind, the sky, the fabric of clothing the people were wearing...everything. It was fascinating how the mind was such a malleable processor.

 

The Companions’ built-in computer didn’t HAVE to do this, naturally, but it was considered a safeguard on the very remote possibility that the companion did something...rash. The blindfolds also helped identify them at a glance as being criminals and...and…

 

_ Slaves, _ Sans almost recoiled at the thought, but he couldn’t easily bat it away...that’s what they were. Slaves. When their term was over, they’d be given materials to help live an independent life… but Sans had never even once heard of an independent Companion. 

 

With an enormous mental shove, he pushed those thoughts away, and all the guilt and emotional baggage that accompanied it. 

 

Removing a companion’s blindfold unexpectedly could cause them to overload and shut down at best as they couldn’t handle the sheer amount of visual data that assaulted them or even damaged at absolute worst. Therefore; the act of removing a blindfold had become something of a private act. 

 

Sans had poked around online and found pocket communities of companion owners who felt that removing a blindfold must be done only in privacy, to care for the companion and build trust between the companion and their owner. It was quite common to scorn such views, however, as Companion’s did not require trust or consideration… they were criminals being punished and their discomfort was of no interest to society. 

 

That was not a rabbit hole that was eager to go down.

 

_ No, there’s a different rabbit’s hole you’d rather go down- _

 

“...That makes three times today that you have struck yourself, Sans. Are you unwell? Should I contact medical services?”

 

The blue blush across the skeleton’s face burned like an azure flame as Sans glared grumpily at his dinner.

 

“...Just eat yer food, kid.”


	2. FrankenFrisk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Companion's make life easier, right?

 

Sans would have liked for it to start off with a calm, breezy, sunny day.

What he got instead was waking up in the middle of the night during a thunderstorm. He hoped that nothing knocked out the power while Frisk was plugged in. Could she short circuit? That wasn’t something that he wanted to find out the hard way. Sans mindlessly brushed Frisk’s hair while she slept; or at least, while he thought that she was sleeping. She eventually turned her lightning blue eyes up to him, making him blink and flush awkwardly. He pulled away like he had been burned and pulled himself from the bed. Frisk just stared after him as he got up. She started to follow before realizing that she was still plugged in and charging, and Sans silently held up a finger to indicate that he didn’t want her to follow. It wasn’t explicitly stated, but she must have been intelligent enough to know what he wanted because she didn’t follow.

 

Sans returned a few minutes later wavering in the doorway, whiskey bottle in hand as he woozily stumbled back to the bed. He sat on the edge and chugged hard from the bottle, furiously struggling to fight down the tide of regret over his life choices.

“... What are you drinking?” Frisk asked after a moment, pulling her knees close to her chest. The bunny print pajamas that he had gotten for her were a little too loose, maybe he could get them tailored to fit her.

“Stuff,” Sans shrugged.  
“Oh. Why are you drinking it?” she continued, oblivious to Sans’s discomfort.

“Because existence is pain and life is meaningless and I just want it to be _fucking over._ ”

 

Sans immediately regretted speaking so harshly when he saw that Frisk flinched - actually, physically _flinched_ \- and looked away, her eyes narrowing and the light spilling from her face thinning to a dull beam.

“... Are you… sad?” Frisk asked after what felt like hours. Sans responded by taking another swig. He didn’t look at her, he didn’t even know if he could at this point. He just sat on the edge of the bed, hands together with the bottle dangling between his legs, staring off into nothing. The regret, the misery, the guilt was slowly eating at him. At least during the day he had a way to sidestep it somewhat, bury himself in work for countless hours, or sometimes days, before he was forced to leave and rest ‘for his own good’. Why didn’t any of them understand that working _was_ for his own good? He didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to remember seeing his little brother shot down. He didn’t want to think about his normally jovial brother barely clinging to life in a hospital room, just as he had been for over half the year. Maybe he should visit him again. It had been a while since the last visit. He probably wouldn’t trash the place in a fit of rage this time.

 

“... Sans?” Frisk asked again.  
“What,” he said a bit too coldly. Their brows furrowed a bit, their glowing eyes narrowing onto him. He was slightly starting to regret letting them keep the blindfold off so much. Sometimes it felt like they could see right through him, see all of his mistakes and regrets that made him up. He didn’t like it. “What do you want, kid.”

“I am sensing that you are experiencing feelings of discomfort and unhappiness and are attempting to dissuade yourself from confronting the situation via the implementation of alcohol.”

“Really,” Sans grinned at her, but it felt blank and empty. “You discern that with your fancy upgrades?”

“Mostly just common sense.”

“... Was-was that a joke?” Sans blinked at her, feeling slightly woozy and more than a bit uncertain. Unfortunately, Frisk didn’t answer, instead only tilting her head a bit to the side in that familiar manner.

 

“...Do you want me to make you feel better, Sans?” the petite companion inquired, to the background of rumbling thunder.

 

_Say no, say no, say no for once in your goddamn miserable life, you degenerate!_

 

“Ah...what did you have in mind, kiddo?” he slurred slightly, trying desperately to ignore the feeling of sin crawling up his back as he watched her, he was just about the right mixture of drunk and disinterested in the consequences, though he’d probably care a fair bit when sobriety reared its ugly head.

 

“Unplug me and find out,” she purred seductively, leaning forward like a pet on a leash. A pretty pet, with sky blue eyes and dressed in a loose-fitting pair of bunny-print pajamas that hung off her frame in just the right-

 

_You’re disgusting._

 

Even as Sans reached out, his alcohol-fogged mind wondered dimly why she acted so...forward when it came to sex. Was that Gaster’s doing? It couldn’t be, even the most devoted programmer couldn’t make a companion sound seductive or lustful with any degree of realism, it was always a bit stilted and wooden, like a badly translated video game or poorly acted movie. This was the biggest reason why, save for a **VERY** niche audience, ‘Companion Porn’ wasn’t really a thing. Not that he had spent a lot of time researching it, of course.

 

The closest you got were actors pretending to be Companions, or written stories about Companions and sex, though there was a growing fetish for ‘Companion Unexpectedly Becomes Dominant’, but it was about as unrealistic as the moon spitting rocks at the Earth like spitballs.

 

_Your metaphors get weird when you’re drunk._

 

The short skeleton reached out and tugged her plug free, and the girl crawled into his lap, nuzzling his chest, and he would have sworn he heard her purr as her fingers ran across his ribs affectionately.

 

_Moon shooting spitballs eh? Well if this isn’t a dominant Companion, what the fuck would you call it?_

 

Sans kind of wanted to strangle that logical side of his mind at this point, but analyzing situations was something he couldn’t help himself from doing. At first it was to better facilitate his love of puns… and now it was to stave off madness from loneliness.

 

That said, it didn’t mean he had to listen to the damn nagging thing all the time.

 

“You’re ah...pretty Frisky tonight, eh?” the drunken skeleton commented lamely, earning a slight giggle from the petite girl, who nuzzled her way up to his neck.

 

“I’m just doing...what I’m programmed to, Sans...” he wasn’t aware until this point in his life that his name could be said in such a way that it sounded...dirty.

 

_Stop her! STOP HER!_

 

But he didn’t want to.

But he had to.

Right?

Right.

 

_This is clearly seven different kinds of fucked up. It doesn’t matter how long it’s been. This isn’t right. She’s not even acting like…_

_Like a Companion._

 

Sans sat up fully, his mind buzzing and his thoughts blurry, but he wasn’t backing down now. He gripped Frisk by the shoulders, gently (why was he being cautious, she was a Companion, she didn’t matter) and he slipped out of the bed. Frisk’s head tilted in confusion and he held up a finger. He dug around in the jacket hanging from the writing desk not far away until he found his cellphone. It was early, very early morning; too early. Sans sighed and rubbed his aching eye sockets. He was still far too sober for this, and he had so, _so_ many questions. But maybe Gaster would be able to answer some of those questions in the morning. He could take Frisk in and have Alphys give her a look over; it wasn’t that he didn’t trust Gaster’s word, but a second opinion could come in handy, and Alphys had never let him down.

 

“... Sans?”

“Go to-” he started before cringing. He could _literally_ command her to sleep any time he said, just the sheer amount of control that he had over her was terrifying. Her head tilted a bit as she looked at him, her thin eyes luminescent in the dark.

“Yes, Sans?”  
“... I’m gonna go to sleep,” Sans dropped onto the bed wearily, his bones aching and pleading for release, and he felt far too sweaty to be comfortable, but he squeezed his eye sockets shut immediately. “I’d, uh. Really appreciate it if you went ta sleep too, kiddo.”

“Of course, Sans.”

 

He didn’t open his eye socket but he did feel a light pressure on the left side of his chest, and he cracked an eye socket open after a  while to see that the glow of her eyes had dimmed to an almost unnoticeable flicker. He carefully plugged her back in to allow her to finish charging, his head feeling heavy. If he wanted to, then he could…

Sans shook his head hard. He was drunk. That was all. In the morning he would be thinking more clearly. And he had to have a few… _words_ with Gaster.

 

Morning came with fingers wrapped around his ribcage, and a tiny girl curled up next to him, her cord leading from her neck to the wall outlet as she cuddled up close.  
  
He hadn’t given her permission to do that...but he also hadn’t told her she wasn’t allowed to do it either...dammitt his head was THROBBING! The hangover was pure torture and some would claim that he had it coming to him. Of course, Sans would claim that the alcohol had attacked him and tried to drown him; he was a victim here, dammitt!

 

“Heya… kid… were ya cold?” Probably, stupid, STUPID of COURSE she was cold… still, this was one more sign of her not behaving… normally.

 

She shifted in her sleep and mumbled, Sans stroking her neck and fondling the power port, causing her to moan softly.

 

“Damnitt Gaster,” he grumbled as he wrapped two fingers around the plug, “And _I’m_ supposed to be the perv?”   
  
He began to gently push and shove the plug, wriggling it in its socket while pulling it back slightly before pushing it back forward, causing Frisk to… moan.

 

 _Yes,_ the skeleton’s mind confirmed brutally, _You are a pervert!_ In spite of this, Sans grinned, _Whaaat? It’s just a plug!_

 

A very...sensitive plug. Damnitt _why_ would she even have this kind of artificial nerve system around her ports? Nobody had any need for them but-

 

Her neck lifted slightly and she sighed happily, a sound that was both innocent and yet somehow...not, and once more Sans felt guilt gnawing at his chest.

 

“Alright Kiddo, time ta get up,” he tugged the cord free and she...squeaked, one eye opening lazily to look up at him, and he could have sworn he saw the tiniest of smiles behind her lips before it disappeared and the little Companion sat up slowly, her hair a wild mess.

 

“Pfft, what happened kid? Did ya short circuit last night?” teased the skeleton while she tilted her head in polite confusion at him, electric blue eyes wide with an almost uncharacteristic innocent curiosity.

 

“No Sans, my battery runs on magical energies, as it is more efficient.” Most electrical power in Ebott was actually provided by The Core, a monumental piece of technology that converted thermal energy into magical electricity, which in turn powered homes. Sans wasn’t sure why magical electric power was more desirable than natural, but nobody complained too much about it. It was just as dangerous as how humans produced it, at least in his opinion. But free power was better than no power, so he tucked it to the back of his mind along with everything else. Sans half wanted to get up, but he just couldn’t quite bring himself to do so. The rest of him wanted to stay in bed with Frisk, watching the rain pitter against the window as he closed his eye sockets, quietly brushing Frisk’s hair.

He paused, taking in that last part for a few moments before internally shrugging and continuing. She couldn’t feel anything about it. It was kind of like petting a cat. Probably. He was overthinking it. Probably.

Sans sighed silently and intended to bring it up with Gaster as soon as he could. After all, most Companions didn’t just lean into their owner’s touch, did they? Sans had questions, and it didn’t matter how bad the hangover was he needed them to be answered. Sans fumbled for his phone after a while, checking the time. It was still early. Maybe he could clear his head over coffee. And maybe some liquid hangover ‘remedy’. The bottle hadn’t been drained, after all.

 

Frisk gave him an odd look as he picked up the bottle from the floor before turning to her.

“... Doesn’t that make you feel bad?” Frisk asked after he stared at it for nearly a full minute.

“Awfully odd question to ask,” Sans said quietly without looking at her. “But I guess you’re a little odd too, huh, kiddo.”

“Are you implying that you wish discretion in your matters of alcohol consumption?”

“Implying that you can understand implications,” he cocked a skeletal eyebrow at her. When she didn’t reply he just sighed and shook his head, gathering the blindfold from the desk. “C’mere, kid. Gotta put this on ya before we go out. Don’t want you gettin’ hurt.”

He didn’t know why he said that. All that was important to him was making sure that his Companion didn’t overload or something. She couldn’t even _feel_ pain.

… Probably.

Sans really didn’t feel all that optimistic about that subject. Companions weren’t _supposed_ to feel pain. But he had seen some of them before that looked… no, he wasn’t going down that road. He would just wind up with a mentality like his brother. And as much as he loved Papyrus, he could never embrace that hopeful outlook on the world. Not without him, anyway. Besides, he felt extremely uncomfortable with the idea of testing to see if Frisk felt pain. Even if she couldn’t, he didn’t want to take the chance. He wasn’t being protective of some Companion. He was just being… cautious. Yeah. That was all he had to tell himself. Then if he said it enough, he would believe it.

Probably.

 

Frisk made breakfast, again, Sans couldn’t quite put his finger on why, but he just loved seeing her toddle about in her oversized apron, climbing up onto chairs and hopping back down, retrieving and preparing his food.

 

No not true...he did know why, he just silently refused to acknowledge the reason, the kid obediently made herself a smaller portion, along with a small glass of milk Sans insisted she drink.

 

“You’re growin’, yer bones need calcium.” he had explained, to which Frisk tilted her head once more, clutching the pan in one hand, a kittenish expression on her face.

 

“Companion growth is dramatically slowed due to the surgeries and alterations placed within their bodies, as it would be expensive to continuously have to replace parts due to the companion outgrowing them.”

Sans’s face fell as she spoke, the lights in his eye sockets slowly going out as he processed the new information. He had never even read anything about that. Did that mean that Frisk would never get any bigger than she was now? She would never get to experience growing up?

… All for the sake of an owner’s _convenience?!_

“... Are you alright, Sans?” Frisk asked, her eyebrows furrowing behind her blindfold. “You appear to be distressed.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” Sans said in a voice much calmer than he felt, staring down at his plate. “... You know what, I’m not-not hungry anymore.”

He felt like being ill. She would never get bigger. She literally lacked the capacity.

And there was a vile, selfish little part of him that didn’t mind that she stayed small. He hated it with an intensity. But that was swiftly drowned in a fifth of scotch, so maybe it wouldn’t haunt him later that night.

 

She seemed unbothered as she began to toss the food out, but Sans caught it just barely in time.

‘You eat,” he stated firmly, “Even if ya aint growin’, ya still need ta eat. Unless you want some of that paste...”

 

He was being needlessly hostile and he knew it, and it wasn’t her fault, but as usual he was absolutely awful with managing his anger and frustration; as a very shell-shocked group of nurses had discovered when he showed up to Pap’s room drunk...he was still lucky that they hadn’t made him pay for more than the superficial damages, though he suspected his complete emotional breakdown had something to do with it.

 

Still, he felt bad for those nurses…

 

She was eating as he sipped his Irish coffee, stewing in his own fluids and frustration, watching her eat inexpertly before he finally piped up:

 

“So kid, what does that paste taste like?” it was the most random question, but judging by how she greedily devoured the food, it couldn’t taste that great.

 

She looked up at him and tilted her head one way, almost looking thoughtful.

 

“...salty” she finally decided, “Thick...and salty” Sans really, really wished she had answered in some other fashion.

 

“Salty eh?” He threw back his coffee and looked down at her, sampling the food with what could almost be described as joy.

 

Standing and leaving the table, Sans hunted through the box he had brought home until he found the bland grey tube and he returned to the table. He had no idea why he was going to do this...maybe boredom, maybe curiosity...maybe he was trying to understand her a bit.

 

But regardless he screwed the cap off and squeezed a dollop out onto his finger and studied it, it was...unappealing to say the least, it looked like moldy toothpaste, lumpy and grey.

 

“This stuff won’t hurt me, right?” he prodded, glancing up at the little girl who was spearing a piece of bacon with a fork.

 

“No,” she affirmed, “An amount of paste that large would serve as half a companion meal” he looked surprised and a little concerned, but squeezed out a small puddle onto his palm, roughly the size of an overloaded toothbrush and lifted it to his mouth.

 

Well...she said it wasn’t bad, right?

 

The moment Sans stuffed the grey gunk into his mouth the lights in Sans’ eyes winked out and he sat ramrod straight, his mind struggling to properly identify the _POISON_ he had just shoved into his mouth.

 

The word ‘vile’ wasn’t strong enough to fully encompass the rotten taste this GUNK had. It was bitter beyond all explanation, even just taking a fistful of salt wouldn’t make his mouth feel like it was trying to turn inside out, and the texture was akin to lumpy, half dried oatmeal, he couldn’t even force himself to swallow it and ended up propelling himself to the sink where he retched violently, gargling water in a desperate attempt to scrub the horrible taste from his mouth.

 

Frisk had promised it wasn’t poisonous...but that didn’t stop Sans’ mouth from feeling like he had shoveled radioactive runoff into it.

“Thought-” Sans gasped for air, feeling strongly like being sick again. “You said… it wasn’t… bad…?!”

“It’s an acquired taste,” Frisk said a little sadly before her face drained of emotion. Sans was struck yet again, how very much UNCompanion-like she was. He didn’t wish that sort of thing on anyone, Companion or not.

 

Sans regarded the grey tube the way one would a viper, and he grabbed it, hurling it into the trash bin with all the contempt and disgust it deserved.

 

“You are NOT eating that stuff.” he sputtered, shuddering as he could still feel the aftertaste along his tongue and small bits clinging to the back of his teeth, “Abso-fucking-lutely not!”

 

Once more...her lips curled slightly before vanishing.

 

“Yes Sans...but that will make your bills more expensive, Companion paste-”

 

“I wouldn’t feed that shit to my worst enemy!” Sans spat, “that was...fucking...how much of that have you eaten?”

 

She swirled the egg in her mouth around before swallowing, finishing her breakfast.

 

“My memory of my conversion process was largely wiped, but it is reasonable to presume i ate nothing but paste during that time. While awaiting transport, I also had the paste three times a day and water twice a day.”

 

“Transport?” why hadn’t it occurred to him that she would have been moved from the Companion Conversion Facility to his lab? Of course, it was easy to presume that Gaster had built her, which was only half true. Gaster had designed her components and had sent them to the Companion Conversion Facility, When she arrived he had done some programming and hardware tweaks to her, but Gaster wasn’t in charge of converting every Companion. His title of ‘prototype’ for her likely was due to her unusually small size and age. Or at least, that’s what made sense to Sans, he’d have to ask the scientist to be sure though.

 

“They just gave ya that stuff? Like a bottle of water and a tube of that garbage?” Sans made a disgusted face while the girl gathered her plate up and moved it to the sink.

 

“Incorrect, Sans. A water bottle with a feeding tube was placed in my crate, along with a feeding tray. At nine in the morning, one in the afternoon and six at evening they inserted the tube and squeezed more paste onto the tray. I was in sleep mode for some of it, and other times I was awake.”

 

Her...her CRATE!?

 

“What...what was your crate there kiddo? You mean like…” he didn’t know what he meant, but his left hand was shaking loud enough to make the bones rattle.

 

‘A wooden crate, large enough for me to sit curled up. It was stuffed with hay.”

 

Something inside of Sans... _cracked._

 

“They…” his voice broke a little as he sat slumped in the chair. “They k-kept you, in… in a _crate._ And… you were aware of this? The whole time? Just… just how long were you in that thing?”

Frisk did not answer immediately. Sans felt his soul drop into his stomach, and he found that he desperately needed another drink.

 

“What...what did you do while you were in there? Did...Did you have anything you could do or-” she turned on the water and filled the sink, then began to gently scrub the plates and pans.

 

“Nothing, Sans. Utilizing my Companion implants for my personal enjoyment would be improper, so I just waited, for thirty-five days, until my crate was taken from the storage facility and loaded into a truck and sent to you.”

 

Thirty-five days. Nothing to do, just eating that stuff, drinking water and sitting curled up in a ball for thirty-five days. Over a month she had been cramped into what he imagined to be a very small place and probably was.

  
Sans’s arms encircled the girl and he held her, clutching her against his ribs as he fumed silently. He couldn’t shake the image of the little girl curled up in some box somewhere, sitting for days on end as people all around just...LIVED and she, for whatever crime she committed, wasn’t allowed to live.

 

She didn’t get to talk or even read...just sitting there; the monotony of it all broken up by her feedings.

 

 _Well, she DID murder someone._ His mind reminded, to which Sans had no response, beyond a heated burst of emotion.

 

“... I don’t like that crate” Frisk whispered quietly, the bubbles from the sink popping around her elbows.

 

“... Me neither kid. Me neither.”

 

They spent the rest of the morning in silence, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable one. Sans just held her in his lap as he watched the morning news, sipping at his ‘coffee’ as she clung to him to keep from falling. He didn’t mind. In fact, he would have gladly stayed like that all day, just holding on to her. The fact that she had murdered someone would constantly haunt him. Just the idea of taking a life was a horrifying prospect, and she was so _small._ He wondered just who it might have been for her to do that. Maybe eventually he would work up the courage to ask her. Though more likely than not he would probably just gather the information independently and get drunk while reading over it. Maybe it was a family member. A sibling.

Sans suddenly decided that he wasn’t nearly drunk enough to be thinking about that.

 

He dressed her in a blue and purple-striped turtleneck with a little skirt and her black shoes, with a backpack filled with some essentials: his slippers, a snack, her charge cable some water, his wallet and a few other small items.

 

 _She looks like she’s getting ready for school_ , the skeleton’s mind commented, prompting a mental image of the young Companion running off to some imaginary school, pausing and looking back just long enough to call: “Bye Daddy!” It warmed the skeleton’s heart and made a genuine grin split his skull.

 

_Dude, you have issues._

 

They were on the bus to work, Sans didn’t trust himself with his brother’s car, when there was an...incident. Frisk was an extraordinarily well-behaved Companion, even by Companion standards. She required no fare due to the laws surrounding Companion’s, it wasn’t that different from a laptop computer.

 

Frisk had been sitting next to him, being very well behaved and not asking too many questions, but the key here was ‘too many’ and it must have agitated some human. An older and heavyset lady who was sitting across from them, watching the pair with the intensity of someone who desperately wanted to be a part of their business.

 

“Sans, What would you like to have for lunch?” the little one probed, causing Sans to offer a lazy shrug.

 

“Not sure kiddo, probably hit up Grillby’s if ya want.” The girl tilted her head like the curious bunny she was, and Sans saw several screens light up in front of her until she pinpointed Grillby’s Bar and Grill and quickly scanned the menu.  
  
Sans watched amused as various other screens popped up, showing search results for various food items on the menu, milkshakes, fries, ketchup but she stopped and tilted her head at a hamburger.

 

“Is this Good, Sans?” she chirped innocently, and he grinned wider, enjoying her adorably inquisitive nature. She was so much like Papyrus when the tall skeleton had been a babybones...and somehow having someone constantly barraging him with innocent questions helped put the short skeleton at ease.

 

“Tell you what,” Sans decided, ignoring the stink eye coming from the elderly lady sitting across from them, “I’ll get you one when we go this afternoon, along with some fries and a milkshake.” she looked back at the screen floating in front of her and shifted it so she could bring the milkshake up along with the fries.

 

Then the little one frowned and Sans saw different pictures of milkshakes appear, in a vast array of hues, and once more her head shifted tilt in a fashion he was learning to associate with curiosity. Just like a kitten or bunny might.

 

Sans forcibly shoved the mental image of Frisk in a black one piece and wearing bunny ears out of his head, or at least filed it away at the back of his head for later and refocused on the little Companion studying the milkshake images.

 

“Sans, there is no consistent colour between these milkshakes” she brought up four screens of milkshakes, a chocolate, a banana, a mint and a strawberry one: with the appropriate colours to accompany.

 

“Why?”

 

The woman grumbled something, but Sans made a point of ignoring the grumpy old biddy and focused on the intensely curious little girl. Oh sure, he could order her to search for the answer herself, but he enjoyed answering the questions, it made him feel needed, it made him feel… good to be explaining something to her. To see her hanging on every word, eager to learn, eager to listen.

 

“Different flavours kid,” he warmed her with a grin, “Strawberry, banana, chocolate, and mint.” The girl regarded the selection of milkshakes again, and then compared them to Grillby’s menu before closing all but the strawberry milkshake image, and focusing on the fries.

 

“Sans what’s the difference between curly-”  
  
“Shut it up!” spat the woman and jabbed Frisk in the head with her cane, causing the images to flicker from the force, and Frisk rubbed her head looking back in confusion at the woman,

 

“Shut that damn thing up!” The heavyset woman was shaking her cane threatening at the Companion, and Sans felt a hot bubble of anger rise in his chest. Casually, the short skeleton draped an arm over Frisk’s shoulders as he pinned the woman with a glare.

 

“Lady, I dunno what your problem is but the kid is askin’ me a bunch of questions. Now you’re gonna apologize and drop your stick, capiche?”  
  
Sans was keenly aware of all eyes on him but didn’t much care: he didn’t have the same level of aggression control that he used to...and to be fair, he was never good at controlling his temper.

 

Sadly, this woman was of the breed that believed that their age granted them immunity from repercussions, a view that Sans was more than eager to disabuse her of.

 

“Then make it shut up!” she jabbed again and Sans caught the cane in one hand, eyes narrowing.

 

“Do NOT hit her.” The skeleton growled, “And don’t call her an ‘it’.”

 

The woman drew herself as much as she could, trying to look imposing and authoritative, brandishing her cane like a crusader would a sword.

 

“I’ll call IT whatever I want to! It’s a fucking criminal shit, an’ I’ll do whatever I want to it!”

 

Frisk turned back to Sans who was growling like an angry dog at the woman, feeling his magic building like magma in a volcano, when suddenly the petite companion piped up.

 

“Sans, why is she so angry?”

  
The words tumbled out of the skeleton’s mouth before he could stop himself.

 

“Low blood sugar kid, she’s only cleared out one bakery this morning.”

 

Frisk… giggled, covering her mouth with tiny fingers, making Sans break eye contact to smile down at the little Companion smugly... this proved to be a mistake as the short skeleton jab was one step too far for the overweight woman, who swung her cane at the skeletal scientist with a banshee shriek.

 

Sans’ eye lit up with magic as a resounding ‘crack’ filled the air and Frisk slammed against him and whimpered in pain: a massive red bruise swelling diagonally across her face, accompanied by a trail of blood from hairline to her lip, running down in red streams to drip onto her shirt.

 

The world seemed to slow to a crawl for a few moments. He could feel the hotness of the crimson liquid spilling over his phalanges as he held her close, his eye sockets wide in shock. The heat spread through his fingers and from his chest as anger roiled up from him, bursting in the form of blue magic through his left eye socket. He started to cast out a hand, fury boiling his marrow-

He felt the tug of Frisk’s hand on his, their brows high and worried expression on their face. Sans pulled back the magic just a bit, watching the woman before glancing around the stunned bus. Then he pulled Frisk close and fell backward into a shortcut.

 

They reemerged in the laboratory, and some of her blood dripped from his phalanges down to stain the pristine linoleum.

“... On second thought, fuck the bus,” Sans shrugged. He wasn’t going to start a fight in public. The cameras on the bus probably got a good look at the woman. There were laws in place to protect Companions (or more accurately, their owners) so Sans doubted that she would get far. Besides… he wasn’t going to go off the walls in front of the kid. He worriedly brushed Frisk’s hair from their cut, flinching. The old woman had really done a number on her with that damned cane. Her forehead was bruised and swollen, the cut leaking profusely. His anger ebbed the longer that he stared down at her, the panic beginning to take over.

 

“...ALPHYS!” he called, scooping the child up in his arms, and carting her toward the lizard monster’s room, “I NEED YOU RIGHT THE HELL NOW!” Sans took large bounding steps, or as large as he got, which was a slight problem considering he had just shortcutted with two people, so he was more than a little dizzy. He was tripping over his own feet as he ran down the halls. In hindsight, he probably should have just called her, but he was far from calm and collected at the moment.

 

The young female scientist emerged from her lab, understandably confused, looking to the short skeleton.

 

“S-Sans, what’s going...oh my, who is that?” she toddled towards him on her short legs, her eyes raking over Frisk’s body.

“My kid is hurt,” Sans blurted immediately, holding out the battered child in his arms. “Grab me some bandages or-or something, she’s _hurt!_ ”

“... Is t-that a C-Companion…?” Alphys gawked at him before he stamped his foot against the ground.

“Sometime _today_ , Al!”

 

“O-Oh umm...Th-This way!” The lizard lead him to a metal table while Sans grew increasingly more agitated, cradling Frisk closely and scowling at Alphys.

 

“Al, she needs bandages! Her head is fucking BLEEDING!” the short skeleton roared, eye flickering with barely-restrained fury, which had the intended effect of frightening the timid scientist, but not into providing him medical aid for the barely responsive companion.

 

“B-But we n-need to ch-check to see if her s-systems are o-okay first…”   
  
But Sans look sent her scampering, stumbling and falling back into her lab and emerging once more with a first aid kit that each lab was required, by law, to have. Beyond that, Gaster’s drive for perfection meant that this would be an unusually well-stocked kit, so Sans had no worries about it missing something he would need.

 

“Don’t worry kiddo…” he mumbled, placing the girl on the table and seizing the kit, opening it and retrieving some alcohol to disinfect her injury, “I'm gonna getcha patched up...you’ll be just fine, you’ll see...you’ll be just fine Pap.”  


Sans folded a flap of skin from her torn forehead back into place and began to stitch it into place, wearing gloves from the first aid kit, then he wound bandages around her head gently, her blindfold laying next to her, splashed with blood.   
  
“Shit shit shit…” a thick red bruise was rising up on her face, as tears cut down the short skeleton’s cheeks as he dabbed her bruises with alcohol, it went right across her nose, though it didn’t look broken.

 

“Fuck shit...FUCK!” his hands were shaking as he stumbled back, collapsing into a chair and stared at the little girl, lying motionless on the table, eyes closed and her face splattered with drying blood, a thick band of bandages wrapping around the top of her head and down across her cheek, covering one eye entirely.   
  
_“I’m sorry Mr. Skeleton...but your brother has been shot.”_

 

Sans’ head fell into his hands, magic violently blooming from his left eye, tears dripping off his chin and soaking into his pants,

 

_“He and his partner were responding to a hostage situation at a convenience store...things were going well until his partner tried to take the hostage taker out...she missed. The hostage-taker shot at them and your brother shielded her._

 

“I'm sorry...I'm so fucking sorry Paps, I'm so...goddamn...fucking…”

 

Sans felt a yanking on his arm, and his head lifted to stare into a single, electric blue eye beneath an unruly mop of chestnut hair, an artificial eye that swam with concern for the short skeletal scientist.

 

“...bad word...swear jar.” she murmured, her eye boring into his.

 

Sans...stared, he just stared down at her, utterly dumbfounded, tears drying on his face as he just...stared at the innocent face beneath him.

 

“Wh...what?” he blurted out, his mind short-circuiting over, yet the little one’s face became stern and firm and she lifted one hand, palm open towards her master.

 

“Swear jar,” she repeated firmly… and Sans began to giggle. He couldn’t help it, he couldn’t hold it in. It felt like his mind was bending and was on the verge of snapping in half from the stress, he couldn’t focus properly. All he could keep in mind was that even when she was horribly injured, she still managed to make time to remind him of Papyrus, even if it was unintentional. She was a good girl. She didn’t deserve… this. She must have been in so much pain, his hands were still slick with blood as Alphys busied herself with trying to heal her with a bit of Companion Paste while repeatedly trying to plug her in only to be brushed away by Sans. He just wanted to hang on to her, even as his mad giggles started to die down.

 

They found a reasonable compromise, with Sans sitting on the table, feeding the girl some snacks from the vending machine. Alphys had tried Companion Paste but Sans had soundly rejected that, and instead had introduced her to the wonders of chocolate. Taking her first bite, the girl made a gasping noise that Sans was sure he’d treasure forever and now she sat with her uncovered eye sparkling as she hungrily devoured the chocolate.

 

Under normal circumstances, a Companion without a blindfold would be in huge trouble, but Sans was keeping what she could see limited which in turn shielded her from being overloaded...right now she could only see his face, his shirt and the chocolate she hungrily devoured, as the skeleton sat on the table.

 

Alphys was...not taking this well. She was very upset...she didn’t take change well at all and this was a MASSIVE change for her to deal with; a companion that didn’t act like a companion!?

“... Sans…?” Alphys said after a while and the bleeding had finally stopped, giving Sans time to fully take in what had happened. “I’m-I’m not too sure a-about how it’s doing, do-do you mind if I r-run a diagnostics just in case?”

“Yeah,” Sans said distractedly, brushing Frisk’s hair and away from the makeshift eyepatch. “Just quit callin’ her an it. Getting real sick of that shit.”  
“... Right,” she stuttered, glancing away awkwardly. She held out her hand to Frisk, the girl unmoving.

“You have permission,” Sans patted her on the head, tucking his hands into his pockets immediately afterward. What was he doing? It didn’t matter if she felt comforted or not. She probably couldn’t feel things like that anyway. “Go on ahead with Alphys. It’ll be alright. Okay?”

Alphys was giving him a very strange look from behind her glasses but said nothing. Frisk silently nodded and hopped down, toddling over to Alphys and following her closely. Sans was left alone in the room and he let out a weary sigh, rubbing his tired eye sockets.

 

“... What is wrong with me,” he grumbled to himself. He was getting worked up over a Companion for crying out loud. He wondered just how many fines that crazy old bat was going to be hit with for attacking a Companion. But most of them likely wouldn’t be much at all. At most, she would likely get away with a slap on the wrist. It made his marrow boil in anger, but he pushed it away. There was already enough human on monster violence in the city as it was, he didn’t need to go adding to it when he could prevent it. He had a reputation to uphold, and inciting violence wasn’t going to help anyone.

Even if he _did_ want to use the woman as target practice for his blasters.

 

Sans blipped back into his lab, rifling through papers for five solid minutes before he realized that he wasn’t even doing anything. He was still too worked up, he wanted to be beside Frisk to make sure that she was okay, to tell her that it was going to be alright, that he hadn’t just abandoned her for Alphys to deal with-

“Get it together,” he slapped his forehead with the flat of his hand. “Get it the fuck together, she’s a _Companion_ , she doesn’t-”

Sans honestly wanted to say that she didn’t matter. He really, really did.

But he knew that he was in no way going to believe it, no matter how much he repeated it.

 

“Well Sans…” he turned to see the doctor looking at him with a mixture of amusement and concern, “Doctor Alphys was rather stressed out today, any idea why?”

 

The short skeleton winced but covered it with a broad grin and a friendly shrug, hoping that Alphys hadn’t said too much to their boss.

 

“No idea boss, it might be because Frisk an’ I had a lil run in this mornin’ but it’s all-”  
  
“You were crying, Sans...” The words died in Sans’ mouth, “You called her ‘Pap’, I assume you mean your brother… Papyrus?”

 

Sans’ mouth felt dry.

 

“I-I mean, I just… y’know how stress can-can uh, mess with what you’re trying to say and all, but I-I-” Sans wanted to kick himself, he was stuttering just as much as Alphys. Gaster simply laid a hand on his shoulder and he flinched inwardly, his head hanging.

 

“... Take a half day. I am re-assigning you, I want you to do as much as you can with Frisk in and out of the lab and record it as much as possible. Your Companion is very unique, very different… I don’t know what it means but it is important.”

“R-reassigning me?” Sans gawked at him, unable to believe it. “But-but what about the cold fusion cores? The light containment blueprints? The-”

“Sans, I know that you are entrenched in your work,” Gaster frowned, a rare sight to see. “But I want you on a new project. Something interesting for once.”  
Sans scoffed at that.

“What, now my research is _boring?_ ” he started but Gaster cut him off.

“I’ll have your work put on hold,” he promised him. “Nobody will interfere with it until you return, I ensure you of this. I want you to report to me regularly on this… _unique_ Companion of yours.”

 

“... You’ve got to be kidding,” Sans couldn’t help but blurt it out. “You’ve got to be _fucking kidding_ me. I’m one of, if not _the_ top researcher in Ebott Facility, and you want me to just drop everything so that I can _play babysitter?_ ”

Sans was angry; but more than that, he was angry at himself for getting so enthused about the idea of being paid to spend all day with Frisk. He wasn’t supposed to be this invested in a Companion. She didn’t even matter that much.

Sure. That was why he had literally been sobbing over her just a little bit ago.

 

“Let’s face it,” Gaster held out his hands peacefully. “You’ve been working yourself… _down to the bone._ ”

Sans just stared at him for almost half a minute. And then, finally, his face started to split into a wide grin.

“... You know all my weaknesses,” Sans let out a weak chuckle and pinched the bridge of his nostril bone, shaking his head.

“More than you could possibly imagine,” Gaster’s smirk was a little too wide to be natural. “Come now, Sans. Have I ever given you any reason to doubt me?”

“You mean now, or all the time?”

“I find your lack of faith disturbing.”

“Man, do you not find it a little bit disturbing that you quote Darth Vader?” Sans grinned at him. “I mean, he’s not exactly the hero of the movie.”

“He’s _absolutely_ the hero!” Gaster harrumphed, crossing his arms. It was clear that he was just trying to distract him, but Sans was a little glad for it. Just mindless chit-chat that wasn’t work related or involving Frisk’s current… dilemma. “Big, tall, dark, menacing-”

“Blows up planets,” Sans continued counting on his phalanges.

“He’s a _pioneer,_ ” Gaster rolled the lights in his eye sockets.

“Gimme a break…” he shrugged and ran a hand over the top of his sweaty head. When had he gotten so sweaty? Oh. Right. Probably when he had started losing his mind over Frisk. “Aren’t you a little too old to be watching movies like that?”

“I don’t know,” the taller skeleton leaned over him just a bit, holed hands in his lab coat pockets. “Aren’t you a little short to be a scientist?”

“Alright, that was a _low blow._ ”

“I’ll bet-” Gaster was practically giddy at this point, holding his hand to his waist. “-you’ve had it up to _here_ with the jokes.”

 

Sans actually laughed aloud at that one, shaking his head.

“... Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Gaster’s casual tone dropped almost instantly as he returned to his more businesslike and professional demeanor. “I will have Alphys report to you shortly.”

 

Sans was left alone for a little while, and the ache in his chest was swift to return. He sat around in his office for a bit, collecting things that he would need to work from home and downloading as much information from his computer that he could to transfer it to his home tower. Maybe Gaster didn’t want him to work, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to anyway. He had to stay focused somehow. And yet, there came that odd little pang of guilt, like he was deliberately trying to ignore Frisk in yet another way. Alphys still hadn’t come to him after what felt like hours, leaving him pacing around in nervous circles.

 

_I’m sorry, Mister Skeleton… but your brother has been shot._

 

Sans jolted hard, forcing himself not to think about it. That was what the work was for, after all. If he could just stay focused to the point that he had worked himself to exhaustion, then he could probably sleep without the nightmares. The less he thought about it, the better it would be for everyone. He couldn’t afford to go having any more emotional meltdowns on people. The lab needed him.

Frisk needed him.

That was a very strange thought.

 

“Alright...that does it,” Sans groused, heading back to Alphys’ lab...where he heard the sounds of voices and...music? Curiosity overcame Sans’ annoyance and the short skeleton cracked the door, peering in where his eyes found Alphys and Frisk sitting on a pull-out couch, staring excitedly at a screen that was playing some of Alphys’ Japanese Cartoons...Anime they were called. This was kissy...mew...something-or-other, honestly Sans was never all that interested in it...yet Frisk was clearly enraptured.  
  
Her jaw hung open as she watched the show play out, and he could easily imagine her eyes wide behind the ruby blindfold wrapped around her head, the little Companion clutching a pillow to her chest.

 

Sans just...watched her for a few minutes, a grin splitting his skull as she leaned forward, bouncing in her seat at the more exciting moments like any child might. Just...this one had large parts of her body mechanically enhanced or replaced by prosthetics.

 

“O-Oh…” Alphys regarded Sans with a strange...displeased look, and Frisk glanced up and went to stand,  
  
“N-No you stay h-here and w-watch Mew Mew Kissy Cutie, o-okay? I need to t-talk with your M-Master”   
  
“Sans” Frisk responded firmly, “He doesn’t like it when I call him ‘Master’.” Alphys looked to Sans for confirmation, and the short skeleton rewarded her with a shrug,

 

“It feels weird.” he admitted, “But yeah, you watch your cartoons-”  
  
“Anime” Alphys interjected, “Not Cartoons, Anime.”   
  
“Heh...alright you watch your anime kid, me an’ Doc Alphys are gonna have a lil chat.”

 

Frisk hesitated, then nodded and looked back at the screen, her feet kicking enthusiastically as the two left the room.  

 

“...So...Sans” Alphys’ voice had become icy as they walked down the hall of labs, “I-I gave Frisk a f-full physical.C-Care to explain yourself?”

 

Sans was thoroughly confused, looking at the reptilian monster with a baffled expression as he wracked his brain to figure out what she was referring to. He hadn’t DONE anything...right? Maybe this was about the bus incident and Frisk’s facial injury? But he had explained that...right?  
  
“Ah well, see she was askin’ a lot of questions on the bus an’ some ol’ bitch got pissed at her and swung her cane an-”   
  
“I’m not talking a-about her f-face Sans!” Alphys all but screamed, “I’m t-talking...talking…” she trailed off, her normally shy face full of embarrassment and fury, “Th-The scarring!”

 

Sans’ face must have shown the sheer confusion he felt as he stared at the other scientist with a stupefied look, one ‘eyebrow’ lifted and his smile slightly strained. Alphys slapped a hand over her face and removed her glasses, rubbing the bridge of her nose in agitation, before slipping the glasses back on and looking up to the short skeleton.

 

“Her v-vaginal scarring, what d-did you do? Shove a _kn-knife_ into her?” she spat angrily, rounding on the skeleton, only to be brought up short by his expression… his eye lights missing, leaving hollow, blank eye sockets and his grin stretching wider and wider, it was like looking at death’s own face.

 

“...What?”

“D-don’t p-play stupid w-with me, S-Sans…” she was trying to stay angry, but it was clear from his expression what was going on inside his head. It steadily dipped from blank and shocked to outright horrified, like he was trying to curl in on himself.

“... Alphys,” his eye sockets were still empty as he leaned in and placed a shaking hand on her shoulder. “I’m gonna need ya to explain. Right. The fuck. Now.”

 

Alphys was On The Spectrum, those who were close to her knew that, and Sans knew that this was probably very difficult for her to handle...but he didn’t care about that.

“I-I-I,” Alphys struggled to speak, squeaking as she tried to squirm out of Sans’s iron grasp.

“I need to know _now_ , Alph,” Sans insisted a bit more quietly, the lights in his eye sockets slowly coming back as his mind reeled. The short skeleton was struggling to process what Alphys had just implied, his plastered grin feeling painful to keep on, but he was afraid that if he dropped it for even a moment then the whole calm facade would come crashing down and he’d be panicking just as much as Alphys. she was shaking, terror in her eyes...terror that matched the fury in his soul.

 

“Sh-She...She’s been...she’s had sex… v-violent sex. It h-hurt her” Alphys mumbled. Sans had hoped that hearing it would somehow make it all easier to handle. But he was wrong...he was very, very wrong.

 

The skeleton stumbled from his co-worker and friend, leaning on the wall with one hand gripping his skull, eyes wide.

 

“...She was raped,” he rasped, “You’re saying she was raped.”

 

Alphys desperately wished she was anywhere else but here, watching as Sans struggled with the realization, the one that Alphys herself had wrestled with earlier.

 

“... Likely” the doctor admitted, adjusting her glasses, “B-But if it wasn’t y-you, then wh-who was it?”

“You thought that _I_ -” he blurted in shock, revulsion plain on his face. “No - no, no, _god_ no! I-I don’t even…!” his constant smile was slipping fast as the panic overtook him. Just how much did he know of Frisk’s past life? Just how much did he know what they had gone through before becoming a Companion? The simple answer was, he didn’t.

He had even stopped them from talking when they tried to share with him. Like he hadn’t even _cared._

Sans felt like pond scum for that, guilt rising up like a tidal wave. He pinched the bridge of his nostril bone, feeling wetness at his eye sockets. His breath was unsteady and shaky as his shoulders, and he released Alphys and rubbed his face wearily.

 

“S-so…” Alphys asked after a bit. “You… you d-didn’t… a-are you going to ask them?” she timidly inquired, making Sans feel almost ill at the thought, how would he even go about it? _‘Oh hey kid, enjoying your cartoon? Oh by the way, were you ever raped!?’_ He shuddered deeply, stuffing his hands deeper into his pockets and finding resistance, possibly the only thing that was keeping him upright at the moment was the sensation that he wasn’t in some kind of messed up dream.

 

Ugh, the worst part was that the kid would likely give him a straight, no-nonsense answer, which only made all of this _far_ more uncomfortable. Sans found the answer to that question forming in his head the more he thought about it. But there was no way that he could go without knowing. He needed to know. He _had_ to know.

 

“No, she’s… it’d be awful to do to her.”

 

_She’s just a Companion._

_Just a kid._

_… She’s just a kid. Oh, god._

  
The short skeleton shook his head, fighting back against the voice that whispered in his head. He needed answers, but he wasn’t about to go asking Frisk to repeat what she had gone through. Just the idea made his bones _crawl_.

“... I want her files,” Sans said after a bit, glancing over and watching the enraptured Frisk, her smile wide and happy as she watched the television from behind her blindfold. “All of them. Every single one, Alph. No excuses.”

 

“That will be h-hard to do… y-you should talk to D-Doctor Gaster about it,” suggested the reptilian scientist.

Sans’s fists clenched tightly in his pockets as his bones burned with anger.

He was definitely going to be having a few ‘words’ with Gaster, alright.

 

And he was almost certain they would be very, very loud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Licorice - We have a discord now! You can join it to talk to people if you want, though we aren't always going to be around. Sorry, this chapter is shorter, but we are working on making everything better. Feedback is always welcome and appreciated!
> 
> https://discord.gg/qP7UtCr


	3. The Windup Companion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And those words were indeed very loud

Gaster sensed Sans’ magic before the short skeleton warped into the room which was unusual...normally monsters only broadcasted that level of magic when they were defending themselves, so something must have truly infuriated the short scientist. With that in mind, Gaster put his pen and notes down and interlaced his fingers on his desk, waiting patiently. No doubt this had something to do with the skeleton’s new companion.

 

Gaster wasn’t entirely surprised when Sans appeared, magic burning in his eye like a solar flare, a bright azure burst of light that dwarfed the neon lights overhead with its brilliance. Gaster studied the young skeleton, bathed in his own fury and tried to gauge what had caused this particular outburst, but nothing immediately came to mind; so he proceeded with extreme caution.

 

“...Alright, I’ll bite...what happened?” The tall head scientist sat up straight, studying his protege from behind his glasses, holed hands steepled before him.

 

Sans was pacing back and forth, his lab coat billowing like a cape as the short skeleton stuffed and removed his hands from his pockets, his expression warring between his normal plastic grin and an enraged snarl.

 

“It’s the kid,” Sans spat furiously, “They… Alphys says…” Sans sometimes had issues expressing himself, and when his anger started burning out of control, then this particular issue tended to raise its head in a big way.

 

“Easy Sans…,” Placated the bespectacled scientist, “Focus on what you’re trying to sa-”

 

“Frisk has been raped!” Sans slammed his hands on the desk, causing the computer monitor and keyboard to jump. Gaster felt his words die in his throat, and a fresh dark feeling twisted its way up in his gut like a serpent slithering through the grass. “What the hell, what the _actual hell?!”_

 

“...What?” Gaster’s response was as sharp as a scalpel, his eyes narrowing dangerously as he regarded the young monster before him, “Could you repeat that please?”

 

Sans snorted through his nose bone, he was dimly surprised that smoke and fire didn’t spurt out of his face.

 

“She’s been raped, Gast. Fucking RAPED!” he choked on the word as he tried to say it, “A-Alphys said that there was scarring and...and...shit Gaster, where the FUCK did you find her!?”

 

Gaster’s fingers drummed together, as he restrained his magic tightly, winding it against his core, lest it overwhelms both himself and Sans.

 

“...That is a very, very good question, as apparently… not where we believed.” The tall scientist frowned and drummed his fingers against the desk in agitation, “And only adds to the recent mysteries we’ve had around here.”

 

Sans stared at his boss, feeling like an outsider in his own workplace, there was something going on here but he wasn’t entirely sure of what…

 

“What are you talking about?” Sans pried desperately. “Not where you believed? I need an explanation, Dings, and I need it _now_.”

“...Go take care of your little Companion Sans, I suddenly find myself with a plethora of pressing questions that need answers.” the tall scientist explained, “There are some things that haven’t been adding up, and I _know_ that I can trust my own math. You aren’t the only one who wants answers. And when I have my own...I shall share them with you: I promise you that.”

 

Sans was far from satisfied, standing there feeling frustrated and furious, but he recognized Gaster’s stony look and knew he wouldn’t be getting any more out of him, but that didn’t make him feel any better.

 

The skeleton was struggling to find SOMETHING to say, when Gaster once more spoke up, his voice firm and even slightly harsh, coming from the stoic and tall monster.

 

“...You should go to her. Now, put all that aggression towards something useful instead of pouting like a scolded child, I will give you some answers when I have some myself.”

 

Sans growled deeply and turned to leave but paused, looking back at his friend.  
  
“You called her the ‘little prototype’, what did that mean?” he challenged once more, not necessarily looking to pick a fight but desperately needing some sort of outlet for his aggression, this was one of the few reasons that Gaster didn’t scold his friend further.

 

“Because her parts and her programming were custom, programming that I could share with you but I’m sure you will wish to investigate yourself. Perhaps tonight?” he soothed, “once more; you’ll have answers when I have them.”

 

Sans didn’t like that response, at all...but he trusted Gaster...so without another word he stalked out of the room, grumbling.

 

It was only when the stressed and frustrated skeleton was far down the hall did Gaster release his magic in a furious explosion of energy that washed out of the tall scientist: his eyes blazing orange and azure; his bones rattling loudly and his teeth grinding.

 

The magic blasted books off the shelf, hurled his monitor and keyboard into the door and cracked the glass in front of him with the sheer force of Gaster’s barely-contained fury.

 

“She has been raped…” he turned and folded his hands behind his back, eyes blazing with fury and rage as the head scientist looked over the labs spread out before him.

 

“...Whoever did this better pray they are not responsible for what happened to Chara as well...or Sans will be the least of their concerns.”

 

0-0-0-0-0

 

"Doctor Alphys."

 

Alphys still wasn't used to being spoken to by a companion, the experience slightly unnerved her yet the girl was very polite and obedient, and the experience was rather fascinating she had to admit.

 

"Y-Yes?" the reptilian doctor pushed her glasses up her nose, turning back to the cyborg sitting patiently on the couch.

 

_She's a companion Alphys, not a person, don't think of her as one_... the reptile had to remind herself, but it was...difficult, Sans' Companion was so...so person-like! A clear thirst for knowledge, a great enjoyment of snacks, and a wide-eyed curiosity never before seen in a Companion, she completely lacked the training wheels, the wooden, stiff guidelines that did much to help dehumanize companions, objectifying them in ways that others couldn't.

The little blindfolded Companion cocked her head to the side, very...kitten-like.

 

"Companions can be customized, is that correct?" she inquired innocently, which served to instead make Alphys intensely curious as to the line of logic that Frisk was following.

 

"Well yes, th-that is correct, umm...wh-why?" Frisk kicked her feet and Alphys was almost certain she saw the corner of the girl's lips curl up into some kind of smile?

 

"Sans' internet search history indicated a fascination with demi-monsters, particularly the rabbit and cat-eared kind. If you have any spare parts, would it be possible for you to add ears and a tail to me?"

 

Alphys must have stared for a good, solid six minutes at the girl, jaw nearly scraping the ground as she processed the request.

 

Alphys loved anime, everyone knew that. Alphys had been to Japan, spoke conversational Japanese, and had a dizzying collection of anime, (that her girlfriend teased her about), but never before had she ever considered the potential possibility of making the most fundamental of Anime stereotypes: the catgirl.

 

And here she was, being offered the opportunity on a silver platter...was this even real?

"...Doctor Alphys, did I say something offensive?"

 

That snapped her out of her reverie and the reptile nearly catapulted herself at Frisk, seizing the tiny companion by the shoulders, eyes shining like the stars.

 

"Y-YES! I-I MEAN NO! I-I MEAN, OH MY G-GOSH!" she all but dragged Frisk over to her workbench and sat the girl down before flinging open a box and digging through it with mad delight. After several moments, she emerged triumphantly, carrying what appeared to be a metal hair band with a pair of metallic cat ears on top and a winding cable, plus a variety of small wires, cables and other bits and computer bobs.

 

"I'll need you to p-power down, " she placed her items on the table next to Frisk, and beamed at the girl eagerly, "Alright?"

 

Frisk nodded and the light behind her blindfold dimmed and shut off, her head bowing.

 

Alphys literally squealed.

 

Seizing a pair of hair clippers, she quickly shaved a strip of the companion's hair, from ear to ear. Normally this would be a shocking and confusing move, but Companion's didn't have normal hair, for part of the conversion process involved the permanent removal of all body hair, and instead, it was replaced with a sort of fiber made from magic and several unknown compounds. The hair acted like tiny sensors that fed the companion data about the weather around them, allowing them to offer more accurate information, and of course, it could be cut and styled and the colour changed on a whim. The owner could increase the length of hair with the menus as well, though there were times when it needed to be shaved off, such as now. The act done, Alphys hooked Frisk's neck up to her terminal and through some menu navigation, released two panels on the girl's head, resulting in a dull, pressurized 'click'. The top and sides of Frisk's head slid out, where her ears were connected, along with a length that traveled up to the top of her head. This panel existed almost purely for customization, due to customer demands to do...well...exactly what Alphys was doing now.

The reptile gently scraped away the skin from the metal plates and removed them, leaving Frisk's metallic under skeleton exposed, this wasn't an issue however as the new plates would cover the location where her ears used to sit, and the skin would immediately regrow over the new plates, while the skin on the old plates melted away, revealing shiny metal and a series of cartilage-like wiring around the sides, where the ears had sat.

 

She clipped the new hairband plates into place and manipulated some menus on her computer, the plates sinking back into Frisk's head and locking with a slight pressurized hiss.

 

"Alright, no-now..." Alphys performed a few keystrokes and was rewarded with skin crawling over the metal plates, covering Frisk's head once more, the new skin sliding up the brand new triangular protrusions, making them look more like feline ears, with a full range of motion and improved hearing, the hair that followed was the same hue as hair that wasn't shaved, leaving Frisk with a full head once more and two chocolate-coloured cat ears.

Alphys had to bite back a squeal.

 

She laid Frisk down on her side and felt...strangely dirty as she removed the girl's pants, reminding herself to cut a hole in the back, and opened a small port located at the base of the tailbone, and slid the heavier cable into it, where it anchored in place with a 'click' and then became fluffy with a nice warm coat of chocolate fur.

 

Grabbing her scissors, Alphys cut the necessary hole, then with her sewing kit, added a button above the new tail hole, and some stitching to help prevent wear on the denim.

 

Sliding them back up the girl, Alphys felt a thrill of delight...a catgirl, a REAL cat girl!

 

_AAAH! SHE LOOKS LIKE THE CUTEST LITTLE MONSTER!_ Alphys clapped her hands in delight then jumped back to her keyboard, furiously typing as she uploaded a few new parameters to the freshly minted catgirl...parameters that would help Frisk remember her tail and new ears, instructions on how to move both, and for internal systems to recognize the existence of the new appendages and how to collect data from them.

The upload took roughly 30 minutes to complete while Alphys sat back and grinned broadly, intensely proud of herself.

 

Sans' mood was black as tar as he returned to Alphys' lab, his expression foul and his feet stomping in the little pink slippers, he flung the door open and stormed in.

 

"Alphys I-" Sans forgot what he was going to say.

 

He was staring at Frisk who turned to face him, a warm brown tail emerging from the back of her pants, with a brand new pair of triangular feline ears mounted on top of her head.

 

"...nya?" she asked, curling her right hand into a little fist and lifting it up by the wrist to forehead level, while her left hand lifted up to her neck, and her new ears twitched.

 

“I-ISN’T SHE JUST TH-THE MOST ADORABLE!?” squeaked Alphys in delight, juggling her camera and an armful of cosplay clothes; her eyes glowing with unyielding joy.

 

Sans’s eye socket twitched as he felt overwhelmed by a plethora of strange feelings; and the biggest problem is that, yes… Frisk was very adorable, and this was like something out of his internet search history that he would have to have a serious discussion about later. But at the same time he felt an intense jealousy that he couldn’t easily place, a hotness in his chest that was furious that Alphys would...would….

 

_Would change his Frisk before he had a chance to._

 

It felt like something important had been taken away from him, like he had just lost out on her first birthday, or her first Christmas or something else equally as important, seeing her ride a bike for the first time. Some part of Sans’ mind was scoffing at him, scolding him for being so unreasonable yet that voice was easy to ignore.He felt betrayed, he felt deprived, he felt…

_Absolutely fucking livid._

 

“Alphys,” the lights in his eye sockets went out. “What. Do you think. You’re doing. With _my kid._ ”

Alphys, utterly oblivious to the danger, excitedly dancing from foot to foot, only beamed at him. Like she was _proud_ of what she had taken from him.

“Isn’t she adorable?” Alphys squealed, her eyes wild. “Oh my god Sans, why didn’t you get a Companion years ago, this is _awesome_ -”

“We’re leaving,” he said, surprised even by himself when it came out dark, guttural and heated. “Kid, come on. We’re going. _Now._ ”

“What?” Alphys frowned, her expression drooping just a bit as she struggled not to drop any of the cosplaying clothes that she had swiftly gathered. “B-but don’t-don’t you want to see F-Frisk dressed in any-”

“No, I do _not,_ ” Sans lied through his teeth, his brow bones knitted together in fury as he held out his hand for Frisk to take, which they did unbidden and completely silently. “I asked you to do _one_ thing, Al; you didn’t have to-to… _change_ her!”

“But-but-but,” she sputtered in confusion, looking hurt at his outburst. “But I… I thought you w-would want…?”

“Alphys…” Sans pinched the bridge of his nostril cavity. “You’ve worked on your fair share of Companions. I would have thought that - you know what?” he grinned at her emptily. “Never mind. Just forget it. It’s fine. I’ll see you later, Al.”

He didn’t stop to register her attempt to stop him as he threw himself into a shortcut, dragging Frisk along with him.

“Sans?” Frisk was ‘looking’ at him worriedly, her ears twitching. They emerged from the space between into his house, and Sans released her to pace around the living room, fuming quietly. “What is wrong, Sans? Can I assist you in any way?”  
“What’s wrong?” he repeated, the grin plastered on his face even though just underneath it was a roiling thunderstorm. “What’s _wrong_ is that she shouldn’t have _done_ that, she had _no right_ to alter you! I mean, what the _hell_ ?! You don’t do that to someone’s Companion, she didn’t even _ask_ …!”  
“Sans?”

“I oughtta give her a piece of my mind,” he growled deeply, jamming his fists into his pockets and stomping back and forth. He stubbed his toe against the coffee table and let out a slew of expletives as he continued pacing, giving the offending furniture a filthy, wilting glower. “I didn’t _ask_ her to change you, I didn’t _want_ her to give you any upgrades-!”  
“Sans,” Frisk said just a bit more loudly, causing him to pause. She had raised her voice at him. Yet another thing that Companions didn’t do. “Please do not be angry. I requested the modifications because I believe that it would be to your liking.”

 

Sans froze in place, utterly dumbfounded.

“... You what?”

“Please forgive me, Master Sans. I assumed that you would be pleased with the outcome if I were to improve my appearance to better meet your standards. I did not wish to anger you.”  
Sans just stood before her with his hands in his pockets, at a complete loss for words. He blinked several times and her words finally began to sink in.

“You… _asked_ her to alter you,” he said in disbelief.

“Yes?” she gave that little head cock to the side. “I will gladly endure any other modifications that you wish to install.”  
“... Kid,” Sans reached a hand out slowly before gently patting her head, just in between the curiously swiveling fuzzy ears. “Kid. I… I already like ya just the way that you were. You didn’t have to change a thing.”

Frisk underwent a very subtle, but very unsettling transformation. Her eyebrows twitched as if in confusion and her ears went slack against her head. Her lips jerked upward in that almost smile as her head tilted slightly to the side, and Sans felt as if he were being watched intensely through the blindfold. She didn’t speak however, and Sans didn’t either. As a result, they just stood and stared at each other for nearly a full, awkward minute, leaving Sans to flippantly grunt and shake his head before dropping onto the couch. The kid was weirding him out.

 

“... Hey,” he said eventually, motioning for Frisk to draw closer. She did so without hesitation and he started to reach out again before pausing. He shrugged internally and stroked the top of her head, and his suspicion was confirmed when she began to purr ever so quietly. It was odd, he really, _really_ shouldn’t have enjoyed the sound as much as he did, and the dusting on his cheeks was hard to ignore. He stopped and she gave him that awkward head tilt again, and he just stuck his hands into his pockets and grabbed at nothing.

 

“We-we’re gonna go see my bro today,” Sans informed her quietly. He could almost see the metaphorical gears turning in her head as she internally searched for information on him. He didn’t like that she could even do such a thing, it felt like she was invading his brother’s privacy, but he didn’t stop her. Her expression froze in place after a moment, and he quietly noted that she had probably stumbled across some public information concerning the incident.

 

“I… I am sorry,” she said after a few seconds, her head dipping downward.

“Fuhgeddaboudit,” he said all in one breath without looking at her. “Just, uh… fuck. Maybe I’ll revert ya once we get back,” Sans finished, knowing full well that he would do no such thing.

 

A small screen materialized in front of the companion, and she tapped on it, adding to a tally count, Sans had seen her do it before and never thought to ask about it...until now, there was quite the tally there too.

 

“Heya kid, what is that?” he prodded curiously, somewhat relieved to have some sort of excuse as to not have to discuss his brother or her new additions. The little companion saved the file then closed it, looking up at him with her hands behind her back and her tail lashing the air lazily.

 

“A total of how much you owe the swear Jar, Sans.” she responded smartly, “Since you seem intent on not paying it, I thought it prudent to keep a record until such a time you are able to pay your debt”

 

Sans was dumbstruck and stared at the girl for several seconds...before a smile began to split his skull and he laughed gently, patting her on the head, and drawing a confused purr from the little feline companion.

 

“Papyrus would have loved you”

 

The little one regarded him with a curious cock of her head but said nothing as Sans reached out and took her hand, an easy grin spreading across his face.

 

“Come on kid, let’s go ta Grillby’s...he’s gonna love ya”

 

The much-promised and highly anticipated Grillby’s visit sadly did not happen, as mother nature proved to be particularly temperamental, forcing Sans to shortcut back to the apartment as the rain kicked up. In retrospect, he probably could have gone to Grillby’s, but shortcutting into a busy place could be a bit hazardous.   
  
Besides, he got to teach Frisk how to make macaroni with hot dogs, then the two sat and watched the rain in silence, the small Companion cuddled into his lap, his chin resting on the top of her head as they stared out the window. It was a simple, low-impact afternoon that lead into an evening of watching Mettaton prance around on TV.    
  
How that guy had an audience to watch, Sans would never know, but Papyrus loved him, so Sans taped every show in anticipation...for the ‘when’ that had not yet come. For the longest time, Sans had felt hopeless and so he dived headfirst into his work, forcing himself to forget everything and just work and sleep...a sleep often fueled by copious amounts of alcohol.

 

But since the little blue-eyed girl had come into his life, the skeletal scientist had found himself smiling more, real smiles...and a fragile sense of hope starting to take root. Just having someone to sit and listen to him ramble, to take up space in the house, to hear footsteps on the floor that weren’t his own for once...it did wonders for Sans’ mood and disposition. 

 

Tomorrow he’d have to show the kid popcorn, with lots of butter, Monster variant of course, that human stuff tasted weird to Sans, and the kid didn’t seem too bothered by a strict monster-food diet. Mmm...actually in retrospect, maybe he should ask Gaster and Alphys about that if it was safe to feed a human-base Companion a monster food diet. 

 

That evening, Sans plugged Frisk into the wall outlet, then watched the girl climb into the bed and snuggle up against him, he chuckled and draped an arm loosely around her as he thumbed through news articles and comics on his phone, nothing too important just a way to fall asleep.   
  
_ She so cute like that _ Sans allowed himself to think, watching Frisk shift, her feline ears twitching in her dreams, fingers curling around his ribs,  _ Heh...wonder if she has an alarm feature, would be cute to wake up to her tugging on me...or purrin’ like a vibrate mode. _

 

Sans quickly and quietly killed that line of thought before it went anywhere too strange, and instead tossed his phone onto the bedside table. Tonight had been good, he sighed and closed his eyes a grin stretching across his cheeks as the little one pressed into his side, snoring softly and safely against his body.

 

“G’night Paps...I’ll bring the kid ta see ya soon…” he promised to himself, “Yer gonna love her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So apologies for this taking so long and being so late, both authors have had a lot on their plates and Aku's laptop may be kaput as well as both of us battling various forms of depression, anxiety and other fun issues. We are still working on this and we both very much enjoy it, but updates are slow. This chapter was supposed to include a visit to Grillby's and then heading to see Papyrus, but I decided to do that next chapter and give you guys at least this much to read. Sorry about everything, I hope it's good enough. Mea Culpa.


	4. A Skeleton's Guide to Companions

"C'mon, kiddo," Sans yawned tiredly and stretched, his back popping uncomfortably. He was still a little stiff from the sleeping position last night. He wasn't even certain as to why he was aching so much. Then he glanced down and remembered _exactly_ why. Frisk was rubbing her glowing eyes with a tiny yawn of her own, showing off her perfectly white teeth. He didn't know why that of all things made something in him twinge uneasily. Humans normally had sharp canines or incisors, right? But his Companion had perfectly straight, flat almost dulled teeth. Weird. Maybe it was just a human thing. "Come on, buddy. Time to wake up."

 

Frisk obeyed immediately and fell out of the bed, fumbling to stand properly and straightening up as quickly as possible. She stood at attention at her full (not very impressive) height, staring at him expressionlessly. It took him a moment to realize that she was awaiting orders. Sans bit back a little laugh, even though it felt... a bit sadder than he would have expected. He shrugged it off. Just a Companion. Doesn't matter.

 

Surely if he kept telling himself that it would finally start to feel real.

 

Sans rubbed the back of his head and stood, watching as Frisk wordlessly made the bed for him. Just one more thing that she did automatically without explicitly being ordered to. Sans was _pretty_ sure that most (all) Companions weren't like that, but Gaster's words drifted through his head and he filed away more questions for the old skeleton for later.

"You-you don't hafta..." Sans started as she finished rapidly, and he just sighed and stuffed his hands into his pockets. Or tried to, as he realized that he was just wearing shorts.

And nothing else.

 

Heat flooded Sans's face as his foot brushed against the glass bottle sitting beside his bed. Had he gotten plastered last night? He couldn't recall. That was normal. Waking up in his boxers, that was _fairly_ normal.

 

The... god he hoped that wasn't an appraising look - from Frisk was slightly less normal.

 

"Let's - I mean, we should get dressed, yeah?" Sans turned on the spot and coughed awkwardly into his fist, still trying to avoid giving direct orders to see what she would do. She was wearing those bunny print loose pajamas that he had gotten for her, and he started to dig around in his closet before he felt a tug on his shorts. Sans froze for a moment before realizing that Frisk was holding out a bundle of his clothes for him.

 

"I have already prepared attire for your day, Sans," Frisk spoke in a quiet monotone, her eyes glowing a bit more brightly. "Gauging from your preferences to loose civilian clothing I have selected what I hope will be to your liking, sir."

 

"Uh," Sans stated cleverly. "Uh. Yeah. Thanks, kiddo," he patted her on the head a couple of times, and for just a moment he could have sworn that her smile grew just a bit.

 

"C'mon, buddy," Sans shook off his uneasiness. "You should go get dressed in somethin' comfy, we'll grab some quick grub on the way."

 

"On the way to where?" Frisk tilted her head ever so slightly to the side, her voice soft and scratchy in her confusion.

 

"The Lab," he said simply, slipping his lab coat on over his clothes as he dressed, stuffing his favorite flask into the inner pocket. Something told him that he'd need it.

 

Frisk walked next to Sans on the way to work, they could take the bus but after the last incident they had on it, Sans wasn't all that eager to take it again: afraid that Frisk could be victimized by someone else, which was a tragically real possibility.

 

With her new cat ears and tail, all that was really missing was a cat-belled collar around her neck, and damn if Sans wasn't fighting every hot pulse in his bones to go out and get one. He was getting enough weird looks on the street as is, and while it was true that there wasn't anything necessary ILLEGAL about walking around with your companion on a leash, it said a lot about your relationship with them and people tended to judge you on that.

 

Hell, they were already judging him for having such a small companion, he could brush it off by saying that they were about the same size, and people tended to accept that, thankfully.

 

They stopped at Muffet's bakery to get breakfast, and Sans noticed that his companion's new chocolate-coloured tail began to sway as she stood next to him,  as Muffet puttered about putting together some breakfast sandwiches and smoothies, strawberry-banana for Frisk with an egg and cheese bagel on a three-cheese bagel, Sans got chocolate.

 

"You keep Sans out of trouble, you hear?" smiled the spider woman, as she handed over the bags and drinks, "Don't let him drink all that ketchup either! It's bad for him!"

 

Frisk nodded solemnly, accepting the bags while Muffet forced the drinks into Sans' hands while scolding him; "don't make her carry everything all the time, lazybones!"

Sans faked a hurt look, but let a smile replace it quickly thereafter, Muffet was so honest with her feelings, and one of the few who treated frisk like anyone else, in spite of her blindfold. That's probably why they came here at least twice a week for breakfast; it made Sans feel better seeing someone treat Frisk like a normal person.

 

She still hadn't met Grillby yet...maybe later today? Lunch...he promised her lunch at Grillby's...still owed her a milkshake.

 

The companion was quiet as they made their way into the building and Sans clocked in, he had to check in with Gaster, but that meant leaving Frisk with Alphys, should be alright though, Alphys adored the kid...maybe too much.

 

Still, she'd never intentionally hurt the little one.

 

Sans meandered around the lab for a little bit, putting off the future for as long as possible. He knew that it wasn't a smart thing to do, but he didn't care. He just walked through the halls with Frisk for a while, letting her hold his hand as he pointed out different rooms and wings and explained their basic purposes. Eventually, however, he came to Alphys's section of the lab, and even he had to admit that it was pretty impressive. He was surprised that the tentative lizard didn't have her own full wing yet, something about cost and energy reduction that she herself had turned down in favor of her familiar location. He couldn't fault her. Some people didn't care much for change, he didn't hold it against her.

 

"Hey, Al?" Sans knocked on the door a couple of times with his knuckles, the rapping going unnoticed for a moment. Eventually, however, the door slid open and revealed the short lizard, who gawked up at him nervously before clicking her mouth closed.

"O-oh, um, S-Sans, I-I-I-" she started before Sans cut her off, shaking his head and holding his hand up.

 

"Ay, no worries," Sans gave her what he hoped was a disarming smile. "Just wanted to stop by and apologize. I was kinda freaking out the other day and I shouldn't have shouted at ya like that, I'm, uh... I really am sorry, Al."

 

"Tha-that's alright," she said somewhat sheepishly, cleaning her already pristine glasses with her lab coat and looking away. "I-I shouldn't h-have t-t-tried to alter y-your C-Companio-on without y-your direct a-approval..."

 

"Like I said, no worries," Sans said a bit too quickly, forcing himself to ease back into a comfortable looking grin. "Anyway, me and the old coot are still workin' on stuff, and I figured that after as much fun as you guys had last time, ya might both get to have fun hangin' out again for a little bit. So, basically, unpaid babysitting," he gave her a long wink.

 

"I-I'd b-be glad to!" Alphys jumped on the first opportunity with a smile, which he was... not expecting. He anticipated having to suffer consequences for being a dick to Alphys while he was busy having a total nervous meltdown. Or maybe she was just a better person than he was, a niggling little voice in the back of his head sounded off quietly, which he shut down quickly.

 

"Whaddya say, kiddo?" Sans turned to the blindfolded girl, who looked up at him blankly. "You wanna hang out with Al for a while?"

 

"Would you prefer my company?" Frisk stared (or at least he assumed she did) up at him.

she nodded and her tail twitched happily as she looked up at Sans past her blindfold, her ears tilting about then pointing towards them towards Sans, she looked almost like she wanted to say more, to do more, but she remained almost entirely still.

 

"I-I just need to a ch-checkup, okay? TH-Then we can w-watch some anime!"

 

It seemed harmless enough...right?

 

Sans was still worried about the little scar on her forehead, his soul twinging painfully as he watched her go. It was fine though, nothing was wrong. Alphys was a good person; sure, she was a little out there, but she was a real sweetheart. If Frisk was safe anywhere, it was with Alphys. With that somewhat comforting thought in mind, Sans slipped into a shortcut and landed outside of Doctor Gaster's office, bracing himself. He hadn't called ahead, a practice he didn't really believe in; after all, where was the fun without the surprise? But he knocked regardless, and Sans heard a rustle of paper behind the door before he heard a muffled voice.

 

"You may enter."

 

Sans poked his head in first before the rest of him followed, the sliding door whooshing shut behind him. Gaster was sitting at his large and space efficient desk. Normally it was set with tools, instruments, papers - everything had its place in Gaster's eye sockets, perfectly neat and orderly. However, Gaster's normally tidy desk looked as though a miniature tornado had hit it. Folders were falling off on one end and slipping to the floor even as Sans watched, stacks upon stacks of papers almost falling over underneath their own weight, some things outright fallen to the floor or even appearing to have been thrown, and gauging from the dents in the walls, with significant force. Gaster himself looked the worst though. Multiple empty coffee mugs lay littered around the office, some of the folders with circular stains on them, and the one in the doctor's holed hand was trembling slightly. Gaster looked up for just a moment from his work, and Sans was thoroughly disturbed to see lines underneath his eye sockets, his normally calm, collected smile set into a firm grimace.

 

"You'd think that having full electronic format for files would simplify matters, but no~oo," he grumbled quietly. Gaster then blinked once, setting down his coffee mug and staring at the shocked shorter skeleton. "Oh. You... knocked. I must admit, this is an unexpected unprecedented experience."

 

"Doc, holy _shit_ , are-are you okay?" Sans felt as if he were intruding suddenly, and his urge to remove himself from the area and run from his problems feeling suddenly much more profound.

"Fine, fine, yes," Gaster said distractedly, closing one of the files that he had open with a picture of amiddle-agedd man in a green blindfold. "I have been... a bit busy."

 

"Are these all files on Companions?" Sans asked quietly, and again to his surprise, Gaster physically _flinched_.

 

"Not all of them," he answered after a moment, his voice terse and low. "I have been... _preoccupied_ since our previous chat."

 

"You look like you haven't slept, Doc," Sans's worried tone had him sigh slightly.

 

"I can sleep when I'm dead, Sans. I have work to do. Or, rather, have work cut out for me. I cannot rest. Not yet."

 

"You, uh..." Sans rubbed the back of his neck, feeling guilty. "I take it this is about the kid?"

 

"Yes," Gaster said promptly. "And no. More. Much, much more."

 

"See, it's when you say things like _that_ that I get real uneasy, Doc."

 

"Its files, Sans?" Gaster gestured to his glowing computer screen and across the table all over the many papers. "I keep very, very close tabs on all of my little Companions, Sans. Perhaps more than is healthy, but that is my own prerogative." He steepled his bony fingers together and leaned forward in his high backed swivel chair, his face gaunt (more so than usual) as he stared down the shorter skeleton. "And I assure you that I take the maintenance and care of my creations _very. Very. SERIOUSLY_."

 

Sans felt as though he were being held under a microscope, his very soul being checked and inspected as Gaster stared him down, and it took Sans a full beat to realize that it was the very first time that he had ever seen Gaster so distressed that his eye lights went out. The doctor's normally wide smile was gone, replaced with that off putting, stretched grimace, cold and unfeeling and calculating in all things. Sans couldn't repress a shudder, even when the doctor's eye lights returned and Gaster just looked... tired. Sans didn't think he was ever going to forget that moment.

 

When Sans didn't speak, Gaster ran a hand down his face with a sigh and continued.

"I'm very tired. I apologize, Sans," he stated quietly, not looking at him. "I have access to Companion's files. Any of them. All of them. Every single last one. In case of emergencies, of course," he tacked on to the end, as if to dispel the awkward look from Sans. "And, well... your Companion isn't in here."

 

"... Sorry, what."

 

"It - she doesn't exist," Gaster said simply, shrugging his shoulders in a blatant 'i dunno dude' kind of motion. "She does not exist. Not in the computers. And the files that she did have?" Gaster held up a wafer thin folder, holding it out to him. "These don't match any of my databases. They don't match anything, Sans. This 'Frisk's' entire recorded history has been falsified."

 

Sans knew that Gaster had spoken words. He knew to some extent that he was still speaking them. But his mind had simply shut down, refusing to accept any more information.

Sans must have been swaying on his feet for a while because Gaster was standing when Sans finally blinked back at him, dropping all false pretenses of keeping a smile on his face anymore.

 

"... Sorry, what."

 

"Frisk. Does not. Exist," Gaster repeated more slowly. "Not in the databases. Not in any government files - no don't ask how I got those, don't you give me that look - not on paper in anything I've been able to get my hands on. Not in anything, Sans. It's like this Companion... it's like she  never was."

 

"But that's-" Sans blurted, his mind racing as fast as his soul was, feeling more than a little ill. "That's _impossible_."

 

"Yes I know that thank you very much," Gaster snapped before clicking his mouth shut, drawing in a deep breath. "I know, Sans. I know. Which is why I have been searching night and day to discover exactly why. This... Companion," Gaster's mouth was drawn tightly and it was apparent just how hard it was getting for him to keep saying that, though for what reason Sans wasn't entirely certain. "She was recovered at a supply station, locally. Not a problem. Except that there are no records of her being held in stasis, no records of her conversion, no record of her past, there's just-just, there's nothing, there's fucking **nothing!** " Gaster hurtled his coffee mug at the wall and Sans flinched at the wet shatter, watching the tall skeleton breathing heavily for nearly a half minute before he slumped back into his chair.

 

"So..." Sans dared himself to speak after what felt like hours. "What... what _do_ we have, doc."

 

Gaster cleared his throat, shaking his head.

"We-we have records," his voice was strained at this point, and he wasn't watching Sans. "We have records of her retrieval and transferral to the lab, but that's it. Even what little we have here," he held up the thin folder, "that came with her packaging seems to merely be a formality. I know about every - _single_ \- Companion, Sans. It's my project, my baby, my life's work to improve this world for the better. And..." Gaster's breath caught in his throat suddenly, his demeanor shifting as outright fury wafted up through his carefully controlled features until it settled into a wavery annoyance. "Sans. Believe you me, I. Do not. Appreciate people infringing.

Upon. _My_ **. WORK**."

 

The whole room trembled for a moment, and Sans had to take just a split second to determine just how much raw, snapping power Doctor Gaster actually had. He'd never bothered to tick him off enough to find out.

 

After a bit though it died down, Gaster's holed hands clutching each other tightly as he steadied his breathing.

 

"So... we figure it out," Sans said in a tone much calmer than he felt. "We find out where the kid came from, what they know, and we find out why their files are gone."

 

"There's a bit more to it than that, Sans," Gaster's voice was more pained than he had ever heard it. "This... this p-p... _Companion_ , Sans? If she's not on file, if she's not in any database, she might not even be guilty."

 

"Of... of murder," Sans felt like being ill. Violently.

 

_"_ Of _anything."_

 

Sans felt like he had just been struck. No wonder Gaster hadn't slept.

 

"And what's more?" Gaster let out a bitter scoff. "If there's one? Then I'm willing to bet - no, stars help me, I _guarantee_ \- that this is no isolated incident. There... there can't be more, Sans," his fingers scraped angrily across his desk. "People could be _abusing my work_. That is not what the Companion project was intended for," his burning gaze met Sans's, and Sans felt his soul fall again.

 

"... Y'know, a long time ago there was a human scientist who said pretty much the same thing," Sans said sadly.

 

"Who?"

 

"You'll figure it out, Einstein."

 

"Har har."

 

It was quiet for a long while.

 

"So... what do we do?" Sans ran a hand over his head. "If there's more, like... like Frisk?" Sans felt sick. "We... I mean, that can't be a good thing."

 

"About a good a thing as issuing weapons of mass destruction to a group of schoolchildren," Gaster replied dryly.

 

"Pffft. Like Companions are any kind of weapons," Sans chortled. Gaster, however, only stared at him for a long, long time. Sans swallowed dryly, desperately and wistfully hoping that it was just a really bad joke. He didn't want to know the punchline.

 

"Perhaps you should keep a close eye socket on your Companion," was all Gaster said as he returned to his work. "Call me when you get home, understood?"

 

"You make it sound like ya don't even want my help on this," Sans forced a small grin, sticking his hands into the pockets of his lab coat.

 

"I believe that you can be useful," he cocked a skeletal brow bone at him. "I'm going to need you doing some... _field work._ "

 

_Oh, boy. I really do not like the sound of that._

 

0-0-0-0-0

 

Sans felt weak as he made his way back to Alphys' lab, and yet through the maelstrom of thoughts whirling through his skull, one seemed to stick out amongst them all...she was innocent, and that made him feel relieved. But there was a new problem he was facing...should he tell Frisk? How would she deal with it? Could she even deal with it? Would she care? Would she want to be let go? Sans found himself in virgin territory here, with no road map to guide him. This was so far out of what he had expected, what he had anticipated when he walked into the building today.

 

He paused in a stairwell and pinched the bridge of his nose bone, his free hand trembling slightly as if begging for alcohol or cigarettes...or both. God he wanted them so badly, a way to just combat all these confusing feelings and thoughts crowding an already overfilled skull. He tried to play out various scenarios...but he kept finding himself at a dead end, uncertain and lost as to what Frisk would say...would do, and looming over that was a shadow he didn't entirely want to acknowledge, a simple but primal fear.

 

_What if she wants to leave?_

 

It should have been ridiculous, an absurd notion, yet there it was; a possibility so ugly and malformed that Sans found his mind repulsed by the possibility, the passing chance that Frisk may choose to leave him...like Papyrus. Without even fully realizing it, Sans found himself making a decision...he wouldn't tell Frisk. He'd keep her, she'd stay with him for her own protection, until Gaster could figure out what was going on.

 

_For her protection_

 

So why did he feel like he had a dry taste in his mouth? Like he had just eaten a fistful of sawdust? Sans shook it off and walked down the lonely white staircase, for once being mildly relieved at Gaster's prohibition on colour, and he wound his way through the halls towards Alphys' lab, all the while his mind assailed by questions, questions that rose to a dull roar; one threatening to overwhelm his senses:a growling roar that pounded in his skull.

 

A roar that-

 

Frisk was laying on her back, her shirt pulled up.

 

On the TV, alphys had some show playing where a red headed human girl was turned into a black haired human boy with water or something? Sans only recognized it because of the protagonists brilliant red shirt and hair, and loud, boisterous way of talking, but that was an aside...what was more important, what was most important, was Frisk; splayed out over Alphys' lap: whimpering softly as Alphys stroked her tummy and murmured to her, a smile on her lips.

 

"You're a g-good girl, y-yes you are, a v-very good girl." The more Alphys poured praise on the girl and rubbed her belly, the louder Frisk's rumbling purrs grew.

 

_She may not be guilty of anything,_ Gaster had said, _But if she wasn't guilty of a crime..._ **_then why was she made?_ **

 

Sans stood there, staring as Alphys stroked his Companion's belly, making her more active than he'd ever seen her before; Frisk was...was...writhing! He'd NEVER seen her wriggle like that before, groaning softly, her fingers and toes curling, her tail whipping about and ears twitching in delight, was this a result of the cat program? It HAD to be! It couldn't be how she was normally....right? That couldn't' possibly be it!

 

_Would she do that for me?_

 

Sans killed that thought like a rabid collie behind a wood shed, angrily stuffing his hands in his pockets he walked in, Frisk perking up and sitting up slowly, tugginer her shirt down as she did so.

 

"Sans, I am fully recovered" her voice had that monotone quality to it, but with a mild hint of pride, he decided that it was directed at him.

 

_Do not get mad at Alphys, do NOT get mad at Alphys!_

 

"Hey, that's great kiddo...you an' Doc Alphys havin' fun?" his question came out with more steel in his tone than he had expected, fortunately it seemed to go right over Alphys' head.

 

"O-Oh yes, Sans! She's a v-very good girl, so we-well behaved du-during my ex-examination!" Alphys hopped to her feet, while Frisk quietly purred in her throat, her tail wriggling like an electrocuted caterpillar, "Y-You have done we-well with her, you sh-should be ve-very proud!"

 

Sans grit his teeth, forcing his smile to remain as pleasant as he could

"Well thanks Al, ya did great." Sans balled his hands into tight fists within his coat, that hot sense of jealousy and anger clawing its way up through his ribcage like an angry dog.

 

_She's just trying to help you asshole!_

 

Releasing a breath from his nose bone (and being half surprised flames didn't spurt out of it,) Sans reached out and grabbed Frisk, a little more forcibly than he needed to, and pulled the little girl to his side, and draped an arm posessively over her shoulders.

 

"Heya Al, maybe you should go see Doc Gaster, he may need yer help, he was lookin' into some stuff." That was probably mean of him, but he justified it to himself that Alphys would need to be kept abreast of this, if she was going to be helping to take care of the kid.

 

"Come on kiddo, let's go for a walk, then we can have Grillby's for lunch, Gaster wants us ta spend some quality time t'gether, I'll show ya around Ebott City, a'right?" Sans offered, his bubbling anger cooling at her little nod.

 

It was getting easier to read Frisk, she was actually very expressive, if one knew where to look, not to mention that those ears and tail were a dead give away.

 

"heya kiddo," Sans smiled at Frisk as calmly as he could, her presence helped...soothe him, made him more level-headed, "I needja ta do me a solid, an' go wash up a'right? I need ta have a quick chat with Doc Alphys, jus' a few questions is all."

 

Frisk nodded obediently and toddled to the bathroom to wash her hands and face.

 

Alphys was...understandably nervous, all things considered; their last 'little chat' had gotten loud and left the poor girl very distressed. Sans was aware of this, and was trying to approach the situation with more tact than he had in the past.

 

"So Ah, Al...what were you an the kid doin'?"

 

Alphys squirmed and looked at her co-worker with nervous anxiety, hunching over slightly as if to protect herself, Sans idly wondered if it was because she was used to being hit, he had heard stories about her childhood but...

 

"O-Oh it w-was nothing," the scientist defended quickly, "I j-just told her sh-she was a go-good, brave gi-girl for being s-so patient during her ch-checkup. She s-seemed to get happy and le-leaned into the pet-petting." Alphys licked her lips,

 

"Th-Then when I p-put on the an-anime, she pushed her he-head into my hand an-and before i knew it sh-she was like that. Sh-She seemed to like it so..."

 

Sans rolled that information around in his skull, so...maybe he COULD make her react like that?

 

"You...you did alright Al, it's okay, I was jus' curious is all." he warmed his voice with a grin, "Doc Gaster told me ta remember anything odd she did, an so I jus' thought I'd ask ya."

 

Alphys looked visibly relieved that she wouldn't be scolded, but before she could say more, the bathroom door opened and Frisk exited, standing patiently by the doorway, awaiting instruction.

 

"Alright kiddo," Sans reached out and snagged her hand, "let's go...ta Grillbz first, then I'll show ya around...alright?" Frisk nodded, her blindfolded face turning towards Alphys, who waved nervously.

 

"Thank you, Doctor Alphys, it was...nice." Then the companion followed Sans as they headed out the door.

 

"N-Nice..." Alphys stammered, "N...Nice...?" the reptile adjusted her glasses...she'd definitely have to talk to Doctor Gaster about this.

 

0-0-0-0-0

 

The walk to Grillby's didn't have to take as long as it did, but Sans wanted to take the scenic route, show his new Companion some of what Ebott unique, without going too far out of the way.

 

She already knew about Muffet's bakery, Sans suspected it was one of her favourite places as she seemed to perk up a little whenever he mentioned going there. Frisk seemed to love Food, judging by her subtle reactions to the opportunity to try new things to eat, not that he could really blame her; the taste of that paste still haunted him, he couldn't imagine eating that shit for a month.

 

_Or longer...god kid, what happened to you?_ Sans spared a pitying look at the little girl, toddling along next to him, her head tilting from side to side while ears pivoted on her head; drinking in the sights and sounds of the city.

 

"Dogs, Sans..." the skeleton glanced up, and let his grin widened; indeed there were some dogs running around in the park. Being that there were animal monsters and non-monster animals, it could make the situation a bit tricky...and weird, especially when you saw a dog monster with a pet, that kind of situation always made Sans inexplicably uncomfortable.

 

_Hypocrite._ his mind scorned as he glanced at the kid next to him, but he brushed the remark off, it was getting easier to ignore that voice in his head, though he couldn't be sure if that was a good thing or not.

 

"Yeah kiddo, it's Ebott City Park, wanna take a look-see?" He offered, the girl nodding in response, which didn't surprise Sans; she had so few experiences in the world already, so it was only natural that she'd be thirsty for as many new experiences as possible.

 

The park was on the other side of the road though, so they were forced to walk until they found a crosswalk, but there was something that...unnerved Sans a bit. There was some tall human businessman with a Companion next to him, a female companion in revealing clothing wearing a yellow blindfold.

 

There were seven colours for Companion blindfolds, ranging in severity of their crimes so they could be readily identified as a threat level for those who wished to be informed, with Cyan being the lowest level, followed by blue, then purple, green, yellow, orange and finally red.

 

Red was reserved for the worst of the worst, murderers of all stripes primarily but could also include serial rapists and other heinous crimes. Orange and Yellow were for lesser variations of those crimes.

 

Cyan was for individuals who had committed grand fraud or other serious but not necessarily violent crimes, such as extortion and sometimes kidnapping. Sans wasn't quite certain what qualified someone for a Companion program, it was usually up to a judge.

The differences between the two Companions were immediately obvious, as the woman had this...weirdly stiff expression; one wooden and devoid of anything at all, even Frisk shortly after being unpackaged wasn't like that. The yellow-blindfold completely ignored Frisk, who cocked her head from side to side curiously, obviously filled with questions, and wanting to ask them.

 

"Heya kiddo," Sans offered his hand once more, "don't let go until we're across the street, alright?"

 

Frisk snapped back to the skeleton and gave a nod, reaching out and taking his bony palm in her own smaller one.

 

"Yes, Sans," she chirruped, drawing a surprised look from the businessman, who eyeballed them with a mixture of curiosity and confusion, which Sans pointedly ignored.

 

"Sans, may I pet the dog?" Frisk asked as they crossed the street, drawing a grin from the short scientist.

 

"Eh sure, why not? Jus' ask their owner permission first, a'right?" the pair stepped into the park and Sans released Frisk's hand, watching the girl toddle over to the dog monster to speak to him...her...? It? Sans wasn't sure.

 

"You must have had it a long time," the businessman praised, "Tell me, how do you make it act so life-like?" It took Sans a moment to realize that he was being addressed by the businessman, making the skeleton frown.

 

"What?" he feigned a degree of ignorance, having taken an immediate dislike to the human, who looked at Frisk with an expression that Sans did not like at all, it reminded him of how a young Papyrus would look at toys in the toy store.

"That Companion, how do you make it act like a person?" he prodded, his eyes on Frisk who was...petting the Dog Monster? Sans had to stifle a chuckle, it was so very much in character for the little Companion.

 

"I treated her like a person buddy, that's all. It aint any more complicated than that." The man however was not pleased by this answer, and pressed Sans for more information.

 

"It can't be that easy, they're _not_ people, so how'd you do it? Is it a chip? I see you added a tail and ears to her, so did you get a chip to make her more person-like? Is it a black market one?" the man suddenly leaned well into Sans' personal bubble and whispered; "does she fuck any good?"

 

Sans' eye lights winked out at the deeply personal question, and he felt a red-hot spike of anger ignite in his ribcage but unfortunately the man was remarkably dense, or had little experience with skeletons.

 

"Come on you can tell me, I want to upgrade Dolly here, make her actually worth something in bed. I'll pay you, just tell me who your-"

 

"Listen. Buddy." Sans rounded on the man, his expression as cold as the winter snow, while his voice was filled with more heat than the heart of a forge, "Ya need ta fuck right off. My kid aint a toy, an' those ears an' tail were put on by a friend, I only leave 'em 'cause the kid likes 'em."

 

Not...the entire truth, but good enough for this situation.

 

"Jesus fuck dude, calm down...it was just a question" the man snapped, stepping back indignantly as Sans stared him down with a burning glower.

 

"She's jus' a kid an you wanna know if I fuck her? What the fresh fuck is wrong with you?" Sans snarled, spilling out the morning's frustrations on the poor stupid bastard. Perhaps he didn't entirely deserve it, but he had the bad luck to press the wrong buttons after Sans had such a stressful morning.

 

The man was starting to look embarrassed, as eyes from onlookers fell upon him, and he shifted uncomfortably, their expressions strongly disapproving. He couldn't really say that he was talking about a Companion, because that didn't really make it sound any better.

 

"Hey now I was just...I...ah..." He snorted and turned, marching off, his Companion in tow. A Companion who had said nothing and done nothing, just stood passively next to him...it was so strange how different that she had been from Frisk, so lifeless and wooden.

 

"Sans...?" The skeleton turned, there was Frisk looking up at him, her head tilted to the side, feline ears twitching, "is everything alright, Sans?"

 

_That other Companion hadn't even asked a single question...._

 

"yeah kiddo" The skeleton forced a grin, and rubbed her head between the ears, drawing a mild purr from the cyborg girl's throat, "So ya done with the dog?" Frisk nodded in response and looked back to the Dog Monster and its pet, both looking well-pet and very pleased.

 

"Heh...good job kiddo, come on...let's go to Grillby's, it's just down the street" and once more, he took her hand.

 

0-0-0-0-0

 

Sans was... uneasy, for lack of a better word. He hadn't had much of a problem with Frisk walking around with the little cat ears and the fuzzy tail, if it was what she wanted then more power to her. Besides, it was cute. But with the... _interjection_ of that businessman previously, Sans was suddenly feeling much, much more exposed than he was previously. He felt as though Frisk had painted a big target on her back. All of the previous stares and comments from strangers slowly began to take on a more sinister undertone, and he repressed a shiver as he walked, continuously glancing down to check on Frisk. Of course, she was still clinging quietly to his hand, her little feet struggling to keep up pace with him, a small smile on her lips. Was she just completely oblivious to it all, or was she utterly unbothered? Maybe Companions couldn't feel things like worry or fear.

 

It struck Sans just how upsetting that thought was.

 

He was worrying. Over a _Companion._

 

Stars, Papyrus would never let him live it down. Just the idea of hearing his brother's excited, boisterous laughter with a jubilant 'I told you so!' made his soul race a bit faster. He missed him, his chest _ached_ just to hear his brother's voice again, and even if that meant that Sans had to suck it up and admit that he might have been just a teensy, tiny bit _wrong_ about his previous assumptions on Companions, then Sans would do it in an instant. He just wanted to see him again, he wanted to hear his brother complain about how incongruent he was with being a workaholic at the lab and a total lazybones at the house. He wanted to feel Papyrus's arms wrap around him in one of those warm, happy hugs that he was always eager to give to anyone he thought needed one.

 

He just wanted him back.

 

And instead, he caved in and got a goddamned replacement.

 

"... Sans?"

 

The skeleton flinched hard, wiping his face a couple of times before forcing a small grin.

 

"Hey. What's up, kiddo?"

 

"Are you unwell?" Frisk tilted her head slightly to gaze up at him. "You appear to be crying-"

 

"No I'm not shut up," he blurted instantly and wiped his eye sockets with his sleeve, clearing his throat a couple of times for good measure. He felt Frisk's hand stiffen in his grasp and he dimly regretted being so sharp with her. He shook his head a couple of times, motioning with his head for them to continue forward. Frisk did so silently, her head dipped down just a little bit. Almost like she was... _hurt_ ? Sans didn't like it. He didn't like it at _all_.

 

"... 'm sorry, bud," Sans said after they had been walking for almost ten minutes, Grillby's familiar neon sign glowing brightly on the street corner. The large glass windows revealed several patrons, both human and monster, although the latter was almost always more frequent. "I, uh... I shouldn't have yelled atcha like that. You didn't do nothing wrong, kiddo," he continued, still without looking at her. He knew she had a blindfold on, but he would still _know_ that she was giving him a look. "Let's just forget about that and go grab some grub. Sound good to you, kid?"

Frisk nodded once and smiled patiently up at him, and it made his chest ache in a manner that was both extremely uncomfortable and simultaneously familiar.

 

Sans managed to relax just a bit whenever they entered Grillby's, and the scent of woodsmoke and charcoal and fried foods, it all sent a warmth into his bones that had him sink just a bit deeper into the stool at the bar with a grin. Sans debated momentarily between taking Frisk to a booth to let her have a large seat to herself, but decided against it. Sitting across from her felt too unnatural at this point, it didn't feel right. Like he was judging her or something, preparing for an interview, inspecting her. Sitting next to him on a stool of her own, right up at the bar? That felt a bit more natural. She even seemed to relax a little as well, her small smile growing just a little bit as she kicked her feet back and forth, humming a little ditty to herself.

 

Yet another thing that Companions didn't do.

 

But with all the things running rampant in Sans's head, he was pretty doubtful that 'Companion' was a word that suited her anymore.

 

Sans felt his phone buzz in his pocket but ignored it, focusing instead on the flaming, flickering bartender that stared down at him from across the bar. Grillby held a bottle in one hand as he was replacing it, looking to be frozen in place (as much as a fire elemental could be, anyway) as his head turned slightly between Sans and Frisk. Sans couldn't really see his facial expressions beneath all the fire, but he knew confusion when he saw it.

 

"'sup, Grillbz," Sans said calmly as he leaned on his elbows on the polished wood surface. "Usual for me, and a milkshake fer the kid. Whaddya say, buddy? What kind do ya want?"

 

Frisk's blindfold shimmered for a moment before the holographic lights went out in front of her, and she turned towards Sans.

 

"Vanilla, please," she replied tonelessly.

 

"... Coming right up," Grillby's crackling voice was barely heard over the noise of the pub, and Sans felt a little uneasy. Grillby was always quiet, but there was something in his voice that made him nervous. He tried to shake it off, ignoring the buzzing in his pocket. Was Alphys still trying to get him to bring the kid back for anime? Because it wasn't happening, not today. Right now he was getting a milkshake for the kid. Anime could wait. Right now was Frisk time.

 

Sans chugged deeply from the bottle of ketchup with a grateful sigh, plopping it down onto the table. He glanced over to Frisk, who was simply staring at the milkshake with a slight frown.

 

"... You know you're allowed ta _drink_ it, right?" Sans drawled slowly, ignoring just how closely Grillby was watching them both. Frisk just nodded once and drew the straw up into her mouth, struggling with it several times before eventually crawling up onto her knees in the stool and leaning on the bar, taking in tiny sips of the milkshake. Within moments her ears had flattened against her head, her tail began twitching and _whipping_ manically back and forth, and the calm little smile and turned into what Sans could only describe as a strange combination of shock and joy.

 

"Heh. Is it that good?" Sans asked quietly, and Frisk _purred_ in response. Or at least, she tried to, and with a throat full of milkshake it didn't end that well. Frisk hacked and coughed as she spilled it down her chin, her cheeks lighting up in a tinge of pink as she hid her face in her hands. To Sans's surprise, it was Grillby who got to her first, offering her a bar rag (that Sans sincerely hoped was somewhat clean and _hadn't_ been used to wipe up alcohol all day) and she quietly thanked him before straining to remove all evidence of her mishap. Grillby leaned back as he watched her strain to get every drop, her brows furrowed in concentration.

 

"... Sans," Grillby inconspicuously leaned toward the skeleton while Frisk was busy. "If I may ask, my friend."

 

"Yeah, Grillbz."

 

"What in the _fuck_."

 

Frisk suddenly placed the rag down and sat up a little straighter, extending an arm towards Grillby with her palm open and upwards, even behind the blindfold, Sans could see her little brow furrowed.

 

Her action confused Sans at first, but only at first before his own eyes widened and he suddenly kicked back and _laughed_ with great guffaws, while Grillby's eyes ping-ponged between Frisk and Sans.

 

Frisk for her part, ignored Sans' howling laughter as the skeleton fell forward onto the bar, stress and anxiety spilling out of him in heaving laughs, while the little Companion insistently offered her hand to Grillby, who with an exasperated sound, looked to Sans for an explanation.

 

"Y-You...you swore," Sans managed between hysterical giggles, "Y-You need to pay the swear jar."

Sans' grin was so wide, it threatened to crack his skull in twine,

 

"Trust me Grillbz, she'll remember if ya don't. I already owe-"

 

"Fifty two dollars." Frisk provided for him, and then looked insistently at Grillby, her expression somewhere between innocent and demanding.

 

Grillby, to Sans's slight dismay, did not seem necessarily amused. If anything, he just looked... upset? It was difficult to tell with all the fire, but he could see his fiery brows and mouth slanted downward in a thin line, and his body language alone allowed him to detect just how uneasy the bartender was.

 

"... Sans," Grillby said slowly without tearing his eyes away from the Companion, who had returned to happily suckling at the milkshake with little shivers of happiness. "What... exactly is going on?"

 

"Kinda complicated," Sans shrugged simply, taking another swig of his ketchup and lowering his voice significantly. "She's, uh... not normal."

 

"I can tell," Grillby replied somewhat heatedly. "Sans? What exactly is that thing?"

Sans couldn't quite ignore how Frisk flinched and lowered her head, the rest of her milkshake apparently forgotten.

 

"She's my kid," Sans said simply, his grin forcibly widening. Apparently that hadn't directed the message that Sans had wanted to, because Grillby just seemed... unnerved.

 

"There were some, uh... complications," Sans added, realizing the somewhat unsettling implications of his statement. "She's special. A'ight? Ain't nothing wrong with her. She's a good kid."

 

Grillby silently nodded toward Frisk; toward the bright crimson blindfold that she wore.

"... Like I said. It's... it's complicated."

 

Grillby simply stared at him. He stared at him long and hard, and Sans suddenly had that familiar feeling of being placed under a microscope and every part of him being inspected. He really, really didn't like the feeling.

 

Eventually, however, Grillby simply nodded again and left to attend to other customers, and Sans let out a breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

 

"..." Frisk suddenly dropped from her seat and toddled around the corner, disappearing into the rarely-used bathrooms, rarely used because monster food didn't create bodily waste and Grillby only served monster food, so the only real purpose was for the occasional customer who had eaten human food earlier, or had drank too much.

 

"I didn't know they needed to use the bathroom" Grillby commented idly, while Sans felt a dark feeling sweep over him, and he sat up, taking a swig of the ketchup before bringing the bottle down on the bar, hard.

 

"She doesn't Grillbz" Sans retorted without amusement in his voice, "you scared her"

 

Grillby's expression was entirely unreadable, not that Sans put any effort into it as he followed Frisk, opening the women's washroom and looking around, it didn't take much to find the companion.

 

She was in the corner, hiding under a sink, legs pulled to her chest, tail curled around her ankles and hands covering her head while her new ears were flat against her hair. It was like she was...trying to shield herself? Protect herself from something...or someone.

 

Sans felt a knot grow in his non-existant stomach.

 

"ah...heya pal...you okay?" It was a stupid question, but it would give her a chance to respond, however that may be.

 

"Y-Yes...I'm fine." Frisk managed with a slight stammer, her body trembling as if cold, "I'm fine, sir. I'm fine, I'm sorry, I'm sorry please don't hit me, I'm-"

That dark feeling swelled inside the skeleton like a boiling tar pit, questions whizzing around in his head like bees in a hive, but he shoved them all to the side for the moment and concentrated on the little one.

 

"Ya don't look okay kiddo..." Sans knelt and pulled Frisk into his arms, before standing, one hand slowly stroking her back as he swayed, shushing the babbling Companion gently.

 

"It's okay...it's okay...yer safe pa...er...pumpkin," he corrected quickly, "yer alright. I'm here...I gotcha...yer alright." Frisk was slowly calming, her breathing turning from wildly erratic to a more steady and deep breathing.

 

"Thatta girl...good girl...that's right..."

 

It took Sans a moment to realize he was actually sending small streams of magic into her, the way he would do to Papyrus when his younger brother had nightmares, old habits die hard.

 

"...so, what was that about kiddo?" Sans asked after she seemed to calm down, but made no move to change her position from where her face was pushed into the crook between his shoulder and neck.

 

"I don't know, Sans. I...I don't know what that was, I never felt that before. Did I do...bad?" the slight tremor in her voice spoke volumes, and only asked more questions of the skeleton that he doubted would be easy to find the answers to.

 

"No kiddo, you did nothin' wrong, yer were jus' scared is all. It's perfectly okay" he soothed, "it's okay...yer a good kid."

More silence followed as he swayed gently, and he had to privately admit; he enjoyed the intimacy of it, her weight in his arms...she didn't weigh nearly as much as he had assumed she would.

 

"Sans? Can you call me that again?"  the little companion requested after a moment, causing Sans to furrow his brow as he tried to puzzle out what she meant.

 

"What, ya mean good girl?"

 

"No," she corrected, "I mean, yes but...the other thing...pumpkin." Sans allowed himself a small smile, and resumed stroking her back slowly.

 

"Sure thing...Pumpkin."

Sans exited the bathroom and looked right at the fire elemental, Frisk still curled into his arms, not looking very keen on moving and Sans wasn't too interested in letting her go anyways.

 

"...so, Grillbz," Sans managed with a strained tone, "Couldja pack up the milkshake ta go? I promised the kid a treat afterall" he kept his expression schooled and pinned on the elemental.

 

Grillby cleared his throat and nodded, looking clearly confused and making a fresh milkshake for Frisk, popping a plastic top on it (how he kept it from melting Sans had no idea) and tucked a little curly straw into it as well. He swallowed again and looked to Frisk, who was staring up at him with a blank look on her face.

"I am..." he cleared his throat again. "I do apologize, little one. I did not mean to upset you. Consider this one on the house," he added softly as he pressed the milkshake into her small hands, and she gave him a surprised but tiny smile.

"Man, free food?" Sans gave a weak chortle. "If I knew that all I needed to get free stuff was a cute kid I'd have been bringing shortstack here to all kinds of businesses already. Can ya imagine just how damned many free meals that is?"

"... Make sure to hold him to that swear jar," Grillby gave Frisk a little wink, and she giggled quietly as Sans set her to her feet. "I think we both know by now just how often Sans pays his debts."

"All the time!" Sans said in mock defensiveness. "I pay bills. I'm a responsible adult."

Grillby just cocked a flaming eyebrow at him.

"Alright, I'm an adult."

Grillby just continued to stare, his shoulders shaking.

 

"... Stop laughing Grillby."

 

Frisk was tittering the entire way out, swinging Sans's hand back and forth as they walked like they hadn't just experienced... whatever that was. Sans filed it away as shit to deal with after getting plastered, and at the rate he was going he was going to wind up completely drunk before the night was even started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOO HOO! WE ARE BACK! I hope this is up to everyone's standards, and give Aku all the love! They worked SUPER hard on this!


	5. The Mote in The Companion's Eye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> how does one define a companion? And who is this...Chara?

 

"so...she cried? And-"

 

"And asked me not ta hit her yeah."

 

They were at home, Sans was standing by the door to the living room, while Frisk watched some cartoon about talking monster horses on tv, it looked cute and harmless enough, so he wasn't too worried about what it might be teaching her. Next to the girl was a half-drained milkshake her lips covered in white, sticky leftovers that Sans was  _ DESPERATELY _ trying to ignore, while the little companion shovelled fistfuls of popcorn into her mouth.

 

Sans was currently on the phone with Gaster, who seemed incredulous, it wasn't that hard to imagine the monster pacing back and forth, staring at the wall while clutching a cup of coffee.

 

"...I know i probably know the answer to this Sans, but I still need to ask..." Gaster trailed off, letting the question hang in the air.

 

"No, I don't hit her, I'd never hit her." Sans sounded suitably offended, even though he knew that Gaster was just being methodical; he  _ WAS _ a scientist after all.

 

"...well, " Gaster sighed in frustration, "I've hit nothing but brick walls over here, there's only one stone I've yet to turn, and that's your Companion herself"

Sans felt his bones tense, his instincts screaming at him to shield the girl, but he did his level best to shake that off; he was probably just being overly drunk and protective, his nerves were completely shot.

 

"Okay...so ...I'll bring her in tomorrow," Sans offered, "We can look at her together." he emphasized the last word slightly.

 

"No," Gaster dismissed, "i'm coming over tonight. I want to see your Companion in her natural habitat...as it were," he could hear the smugness in Gaster's voice, a mild taunting in his tone, "So...set your table for three, I'll be there in an hour."

 

And before Sans could protest, the scientist hung up.

"So ah...heya Pumpkin," Sans just ADORED the way her tail lashed the air when he called her that, and the way her ears tilted towards him, like tiny satellites homing in on his voice. 

 

Okay yes, he was a bit drunk.

 

"So Doc Gaster's comin' over for dinner t'night so...Pizza?"  Frisk cocked her head curiously and she nodded, standing up from her show.

 

"Should I put on shoes, Sans?" she inquired curiously, it was the oddest little question, yet the innocent naivete of it warmed Sans' bones. 

 

He had meant to take Frisk to see Papyrus today, but after what happened at Grillby's, he didn't want to risk either of their emotional states...he'd do it on the weekend.

 

_ Sorry Paps, I just keep puttin' it off...don't I? _

 

"Naw, you're okay kiddo. Can you order us up some Pizzas though? Two large ones, a hawaiian and a pepperoni" Those were fairly safe choices, even though Gaster may rage about the injustice of pineapple on pizza. 

 

"Yes Sans," He saw her eyes moving under the blindfold then she blinked and nodded, looking up at the skeleton.

 

"it's done, delivery time is in forty five minutes." Sans always felt guilty using her built-in features, it felt like he was taking advantage of her; even though this is what she was literally built for.

 

_ Then again, with the most recent discoveries....  _

 

Sans brushed that aside and joined Frisk on the couch, grinning easily at her

"Come on, let's watch the cartoon ponies"

 

Sans fell asleep multiple times during the program, but if Frisk minded she didn't show it. She seemed pretty enraptured with the show, and from what little Sans could keep track of while he was conscious it was some kind of musical number about friendship and junk. The pizza arrived before long and Sans bolted to the door, still somewhat drunk and struggling to recall what the delivery man was doing standing in his doorway instead of Gaster. Sans fumbled for his wallet for nearly half a minute before Frisk appeared at his side, holding out her palm to the pizza guy. Sans murmured a half baked thanks to the man as he took the pizzas, watching as Frisk's eyes lit up underneath the blindfold as he scanned her hand with a small device. Sans thanked him and tried to ignore the weird looks he was getting from him. He was still too sober, but he didn't need to be completely drunk when Gaster got here. Sans regretted getting this plastered as it was, he had been anticipating a quiet night inside with Frisk and passing out, but apparently Gaster had other plans and Sans did not want to wind up drunkenly singing karaoke with his boss. Again.

 

God that had been such a nightmare. Not the night out itself, he couldn't remember a bit of that; the hangover, on the other hand, hadn't been fun to deal with.

 

He still didn't know who that gold pocket watch belonged to.

 

Exactly fifteen minutes later, there was a knocking at the door, which Frisk answered for Sans, revealing Gaster, clad in a grey turtleneck and black pants, looking very proper and...well not AS monochrome as he usually was.

 

Frisk was dressed in  a blue skirt and was otherwise barefoot, her brilliant red blindfold being slightly off-putting, but she seemed to like the colour blue, so it didn't bother Sans.

 

"Doctor Gaster." she greeted and stepped aside, letting the scientist in, Gaster fumbling a greeting awkwardly, it seemed that outside of a laboratory setting, Gaster was uncomfortable with social interaction. 

 

"I see this place is a lot cleaner than the last time I was here," he noted, putting his coat into the closet, "I suppose that is your doing, Frisk." 

 

The cat-eared companion nodded as she lead Gaster into the kitchen where Sans was pretending to be halfway sober, a slice of hawaiian in one of his hands.

 

"heya Doc." he greeted with a lopsided grin, shifting to allow Frisk up onto his lap, "how're ya doin'?"

 

Gaster just watched as Frisk climbed up into his lap. Gaster's face was blank and stern at first, 

before it slowly dripped into one of absolute, pure, unfiltered revulsion.

"... What?" Sans blinked.

 

"Sans, you are absolutely disgusting," Gaster balked at him, looking appalled. "Just how sick are you?"

 

"What?" Sans curled inward. "Excuse you? She can sit at the table. She can sit anywhere she wants!"

 

"What?" Gaster blinked. "I meant the pizza - I mean, pineapple, really? What kind of vile, depraved creature puts pineapple on pizza! That's - that's just wrong, that's evil Sans!"

 

"Dude calm down-"

 

"PURE. EVIL!"

 

If Gaster had hair he would be pulling it out at his point.

 

"... Wanna slice?" Sans offered his half eaten slice of pineapple pizza to the doctor.

 

Gaster looked like he was going to be sick.

 

"... I appear to have lost my appetite," Gaster replied calmly, his professional demeanor 

returning as he cleared his throat and put a significant distance between himself and the shorter skeleton. Gaster eventually took the other kitchen chair and pulled it as far away as he could from Sans without leaving the kitchen, sitting ramrod stiff in it and staring at the scientist.

 

"Seriously, he turns into such a big baby over stuff like this," Sans chuckled as he fed Frisk a piece of pizza, who nibbled on it experimentally. "I mean, you should'a seen him the first time in the cafeteria at the lab. Dude freaked right out when he saw the peas were touching the potatoes. 'It's an abomination against nature, I'm implementing specifically crafted trays so that this sin against creation never occurs again! Rawr rawr rawr rawr,'" Frisk tittered quietly in his lap, hiding their full mouth behind a couple of fingers.

 

"I did not sound like that," Gaster responded in a clipped tone, his skeletal brows furrowed. "You are being childish, Sans."

 

"Doc, we have recordings. You looked ready ta kill because of those trays," Sans was snickering to himself, and even though Gaster sat stiffly there was still a small, almost unnoticeable smile on his face. "Pretty sure that was when Doc got banned from the cafeteria."

 

"That is not what happened!" he said defensively, crossing his arms. "I just so happen to prefer eating alone."

"Where you can make sure that no peas ever touch potatoes."

 

"Which is exactly how it should be, thank you very much," he fumed quietly.

 

Frisk's tail had started up again as he ate the pizza hungrily, and though Gaster noticed, he didn't say anything as the little one devoured her slice with gusto, before moving onto a slice of Pepperoni, her ears rotating and then flattening while a look of bliss appeared on her face. 

 

"Have you tried giving her soda, Sans?" Gaster inquired, as he sipped at the coffee Sans had offered him, and Sans gave a little shrug.

 

"Not yet, she loves Grillby's milkshakes though. She tried vanilla, and I know she likes chocolate. We're gonna have nice cream for dessert, if you can stomach strawberry, chocolate and vanilla touching each other all at once." 

 

Gaster didn't rise to the bait.

 

"I think I will, thank you," Gaster studied the girl again as she rumbled in her throat, licking her fingers clean of sauce.

 

"She said that she is responsible for your home being clean, is that so?"

 

Sans nodded lazily, nursing some water himself, he would get drunk later with Gaster...AFTER they looked at Frisk's code. 

 

"Yeah, she's a regular work-a-holic, keeps all the laundry done and the dishes, she even can cook a bit. " Sans' voice was flowing with pride.

 

"I see," Gaster's voice took on a sly note, "So you have yourself a regular housewife."

 

"Are you alright Sans?" Frisk's eyes traced over the short skeleton, "You were choking."

 

Sans' face was a brilliant, burning blue as he thumped a fist against his ribs, clearing his magical airways of the water.

 

"Yeah," he squeaked, "Jus...fine."

 

Sans wondered if there was a limit on how smug a single monster was allowed to look

"She eats a lot" Gaster noted, watching Frisk polish off a third slice, "That's good"

 

Sans was mildly surprised, stroking Frisk's neck.

 

"It is?" the short skeleton inquired, causing Frisk to split her attention between eating and purring, which for the miniature Companion, wasn't all that easy!

 

"Yes," Gaster affirmed, "Monster Food made of magic, and since her battery is also magic, she extend her battery's life by regular consumption of Monster Food." Sans filed that little tidbit away for later, now having a viable excuse for feeding Frisk and going to Grillby's.

 

"Well I'll keep that in mind" Sans placed Frisk down and put the Pizza's in the oven in a vain attempt to keep some of their freshness before fetching three nice cream sandwiches.

 

Gaster was watching Frisk closely, as Sans expected him to, though the short skeleton was surprised that he didn't feel uncomfortable with Gaster studying his Companion so closely.

 

It was probably because he had proven he had her best interest at heart, or at least he seemed to.

 

As Frisk bit into the nice cream, a low sound escaped her throat, a noise that was somewhere between a moan and a purr.

 

"... Sans, if you don't mind my asking, just what kinds of upgrades did you install?" Gaster asked with a little lilt in his voice, steepling his fingers together as he stared him down. Sans flushed a bit, clearing his throat nervously.   
  


"I, uh... I didn't."   
  


"Of course you didn't," Gaster nodded with a sly, knowing smile.   
  


"... I didn't," Sans insisted a bit more firmly. Frisk was looking back and forth between the two, her brows sinking under her blindfold as she focused between the skeletons and the icy treat. "The, uh... cosmetics," he waved a hand over Frisk's fuzzy new ears and she shivered slightly. "That was all Alphys. 's far as I know she didn't actually install - oh my god," Sans ran a hand over his head nervously, panic spiking suddenly. "Frisk, did-did... did Al install anything... uh, in you? I mean, aside from the, y-y'know..." he motioned towards her head and tail.

 

"No?" Frisk tilted her head to stare at him. Or at least he assumed she was staring. He never could be sure under the blindfold.

 

"... Why did she pose the answer to that question as a question?" Gaster blinked, leaning forward and staring intently at her.

 

"Out of everything we've learned,  _ that's _ what's bouncin' around your noggin?" Sans stared at him with a grin.

 

"I had to be sure" Gaster said and frowned at Frisk, "did she install anything in you?"   
  
Frisk cocked her head gently,    
  
"Only a voice modulator that allows me to purr, and programs for my tails and ears."

 

After they finished the nice cream, Frisk heaved yawn, a large one for her but small by any other standard, Gaster once more hoisting an eyebrow.   
  
"How odd..."he murmured, as Sans scooped up Frisk, when Sans looked questioningly at the doctor, Gaster merely waved it off and followed them into the bathroom, where Sans helped Frisk brush her teeth, then into the bedroom where he dressed her in pajamas.    
  
"She gets cold, so we'll have to have her in the bed" Sans explained, retrieving an extra-long cord, at this however, Frisk looked up curiously but didn't ask.   
  
"Doc an' I are jus' gonna look at yer programmin' kid, jus' make sure that yer alright. Don' worry, I'll be here the whole time" the scientist soothed

Frisk nodded and then yawned again, letting Sans pluck her blindfold from her face and the girl settled in to sleep, eyes closing.   
  
"...so she gets cold...Companions don't get cold, I shouldn't be surprised at this point, yet I constantly am" Gaster frowned.   
  
"Wait, they don't get cold?" Sans was surprised, furrowing his brow as he dropped her blindfold on the bedside table, "Why would they be set up lie that?"   
  
Gaster sighed, sitting in the computer chair, watching Sans' computer boot up, "Okay I misspoke, it's not that they can't get cold but rather they don't display that they are. Companion's are nearly non-expressive for the most part, while they can be installed with chips and programs to make them act a certain way, they don't display the fact that they are too hot or too cold. If a temperature adjustment is needed, than they will regular their body temperature with a factory-standard system. The fact that Frisk displays that she's cold asks a lot of questions"   
  
_ Or a lot more questions _ Sans grimaced and Sat, watching Gaster call up the code and began to scan through it.

 

It didn't take long to have Frisk plugged into Sans's personal computer. Not what Gaster would have preferred to use (what was with all of these time wasting games all over the desktop? Gaster hadn't taken Sans as one for wasting time and energy on such frivolities, but he wasn't too shocked) but the computer served its purpose. Sans stood stiffly beside the swivel chair as Gaster tried to make himself comfortable, and failed multiple times before giving up altogether. Sans wouldn't admit it out loud but it was pretty funny seeing his boss hunched over in his small chair, too long legs pulled up as he scowled at Sans's office chair like it had personally insulted his mother. Sans shook his head but did nothing to hide his grin, which Gaster ignored as he clicked and clacked away at the keyboard, bringing up multiple screens displaying Frisk's internal data.

"I... I mean, not that I don't wanna find out as much as possible or anythin'..." Sans said slowly as Gaster dug through files, his eye lights solely on the large computer screen. "But, uh... diggin' around in the kid's head, doesn't-doesn't it seem, y'know... a little personal?"   
  


"Sans," Gaster said without blinking. "It's a Companion, it doesn't deserve privacy or personal-" he froze up suddenly, his face going completely and oddly  _ blank _ for several moments, before he let out a long, tortured sigh and pinched the bridge of his nostril bone tightly. "... We need to know, Sans."   
  


"I know, Doc."   
  


"We can worry about trivial semantics afterwards," he continued, bringing up more of Frisk's files as his skeletal brows furrowed. "... Sans, how much have you altered?"   
  


"Again, I haven't," he frowned. "I never did like th' idea of messin' around in somebody's head. I, uh... meant to go through a lot, I just, uh. Procrastinated," Sans finished meekly.   
  


"That may have been for the best," Gaster replied without looking at him, his fingers a blur over the keyboard. "Because I don't recognize most of these files."   
  


"And... that's bad?"   
  


"An understatement if I've ever heard one," he seethed quietly. "It would simplify matters if this were poorly done, but this..." Gaster gestured to the huge number of files already opened and waiting, all of them displaying different symbols and numbers that didn't seem to match up. "This was done by a professional. Possibly someone that has worked with Companions for a significant amount of time and knew what to alter, what to install and emulate in order to stifle the original mind and replace it with..."   
  


"With what?"

 

"I don't know," Gaster was looking, for what might have been the first time Sans had ever seen, legitimately and genuinely  _ disturbed _ . "I don't  _ know _ , Sans. I don't like it when the math doesn't add up."   
  


"... You think it was an inside job?" Sans glanced nervously over to the sleeping form of Frisk, who had her hands folded neatly over her stomach. She looked peaceful.   
  


"Undoubtedly," his scowl returned, his eye lights dimming. "Whoever did this knew  _ exactly _ what they were doing, knew enough to keep it - keep  _ her _ off the grid. If she hadn't been retrieved when she was, this... Frisk might have never been discovered at all."

Sans was suddenly wishing that he was much, much less sober.

 

One of the files on the screen began wavering and flickering, and Gaster frowned. He made to close it but was surprised when Sans's hand loosely gripped his arm. Gaster blinked and Sans just held a finger to his teeth, nodding toward Frisk.

 

"... What are you trying to tell me," the doctor's irritation returned. "Just use your words, Sans."   
  


"Didn't wanna wake 'er up," he flinched, rubbing the back of his neck. Frisk was still sleeping soundly, and probably would be for a while. "Don't close outta that one just yet, yeah?"   
  


"Why not?" he frowned, shifting a few of the files out of the way. "What is this, a video recording? It's not very well shot."   
  


"Nah, see the eye in the cloud symbol at the top?" Sans pointed out with one finger bone at the top of the file as the picture slowly shifted and drifted around, like watching sand filter through water. "That's not a video file, I figured that out earlier. That just means she's dreaming."

 

Gaster was at a loss for words.

 

He just sat slumped in what Sans assumed was shock, his eye lights empty for several minutes. Sans cleared his throat after what felt like hours and Gaster snapped out of it, sitting up straight in the small chair.   
  


"That's ridiculous," the scientist scoffed, though clearly still uneasy. "You must be mistaken, Sans, Companions do not dream. They are literally incapable after their reprogramming, it's just nonsense. You  _ must _ be confused, Sans, I'm sure that there's a very good reason for this. Probably just a poorly edited video file-"   
  


"Uh huh," Sans nodded to the screen, where a scene was playing out before them. "You remember any of that happenin', Doc?" Gaster just stared at the images, dumbfounded, while Sans watched with renewed interest. "That look like a poorly edited video to you?"

 

In the 'video', it was all from Frisk's perspective. Like she didn't even have a blindfold on. Gaster was sitting in the living room chair eating a slice of pineapple pizza (that  _ had _ to have been edited, there was no other logical explanation) while Sans lay on the carpeted floor and held up Frisk in his hands. Her giggling wafted out from the computer at odd intervals, and Sans could hear garbled speech between himself and Gaster that was low and calm, like there was a conversation going on that wasn't quite registering. Several indicators popped up whenever Frisk looked directly at something, like 'Daddy' or 'television'. The couch was labeled clearly 'permission only', whereas the pineapple pizza had a box floating beside it that read 'sin against nature'. Gaster actually smiled at that.   
  


Until dream Frisk looked straight at the dream version of him, and the arrowed box drifting up beside his head flickered for a moment before reading, quite plainly, 'Uncle Gaster'.

 

Gaster really was not sure of how to process that.

 

He simply sat stunned in the chair as the scene changed several times. Frisk walking hand in hand with Sans down the sidewalk, looking around at people and monsters and buildings. A scene of the park with several flowers labeled as Sans explained them to her. A dingy pub with half a milkshake in front of her, reading 'vanilla cream milkshake???' and a fire elemental that seemed to shimmer and shake whenever not being directly observed. Gaster noted that it was almost as if the Companion had tunnel vision at times, focusing intently on one thing only, but at others was absorbing as much information as possible. This was a fascinating insight into the mind of a Companion, there were  _ so many variables _ to be accounted for.  Obviously no normal Companion could operate on this kind of level, let alone  _ dream _ , he vaguely entertained ideas and experiments to perform, already setting up a personal retinue of plans as he steepled his fingers together. Stars and stones, this was  _ groundbreaking _ -

 

And then the scene shifted again, and all the sound cut out.

 

He noticed Sans stiffening beside him, apparently the shorter skeleton hadn't been expecting that either. He wondered if it was a problem with the audio, but swiftly noticed that the data boxes had completely vanished. Everything in the 'video' seemed a little more bland, a bit more monochrome, and it took him a moment to realize that it wasn't the Companion's visual interpretation that was being altered, they really did seem to be staring around a filthy, undecorated bedroom with only a mattress  in the corner on the floor that Frisk appeared to be sitting on. Their knees were tucked up under them and from what Gaster could see her arms were wrapped tightly around herself. It was painfully obvious that she was close to freezing, her breath coming out in short, uneven little puffs. Gaster wanted to look away, to see something, anything else, and he suddenly knew  _ exactly _ what Sans meant by this particular activity seeming more than a bit voyeuristic.

 

There was sound only for a few split seconds, corrupted and crackling that Gaster couldn't quite make out, his soul sinking as the vision crackled and distorted multiple times. He witnessed a large, muscled human man swinging downward toward the screen with a notched leather belt, spittle flying from his mouth. The dark interior of what might have been a wooden crate. Flashes and scraps of images that were gone in moments, regardless of how much he tried to take in. Pictures of weapons in piles alongside stacks of bagged powder. Knives and needles and surgery implements. Flickers of lights and clawing fingers, and the occasional audio that broke through was more than a little unsettling. It sounded like broken, muffled  _ screaming _ that made Gaster's bones  _ crawl _ .    
  


Before he knew it, it was over, and he was left staring at the previously opened files.

 

"... It just now occurred to me that I really should have recorded that for further analysis," Gaster's voice came out in a scratchy, torn whisper, his eye sockets wide. He heard a weak, strangled sound from Sans, and turned just in time to see him struggling to wipe tears from his eye sockets and forcibly clearing his throat.

 

"... Doc," Sans's turned to Frisk and brushed the hair from her eyes, her face scrunched slightly as if in pain. "I dunno exactly what's goin' on in that kid's head, but... fuck  _ me _ , I ain't gonna let 'em suffer alone."

 

Gaster stood, walking away from the Computer, and leaning against the wall, watching Sans stroke the girl's face, tears streaking her cheeks, yet she seemed to know Sans was there, judging by the way she visibly calmed, and unclenched her artificial muscles, legs and arms slackening and her face calming slowly; breathing returning to a steady pace.   
  
"...I..." Gaster didn't know what to say, and Sans didn't blame him, the emotions were so raw and  exposed.    
  
"It's not the first time I've seen 'im," Sans provided, "The big guy, the one with the mustache...he's popped up b'fore. He's always so angry, an' Frisk is always so scared."   
  
Sans heard a rattling noise, and it took the monster a half moment to recognize it as a skeleton's bones rattling, and it wasn't his. Gaster was shaking, his magic billowing off of him in waves, thumb and index finger pinching the bridge of his nose as  _ RAGE _ burst through the normally cool and calm, collected scientist.   
  
Of all the possibilities out there, of all the reasons for Frisk to have been converted, this was the worst possible one. But Gaster also was dimly aware enough to know that he wasn't capable of making a rational decision right now, but at the moment there was ONE problem Sans could help him address.   
  
"...Sans," Gaster rasped, his voice dry, "I suddenly find myself far too sober for all of this right now."

Sans nodded grimly, helping to straighten Frisk up in her sleep, then turning off the monitor and heading out of the bedroom,    
  
"Come with me, I got some good stuff that'll help." Gaster gave pursuit, his breathing ragged and uneven.   
  
"I doubt that anything right now will help."

 

The two monsters were in the living room, three bottles open between them, Sans having switched out his ketchup for something harder.   
  
"Y'know we're gunna regret this in th' mornin', right?" he grinned at his boss who shrugged indifferently, and sipped from his glass, he was looking roughly about as drunk as Sans was.   
  
"I'm the boss, remember?" Gaster countered, "Nobody will dare say anything." He took a long breath and let his head fall back, staring at the ceiling and the patterns on it.   
  
"...fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck" it was always strange to hear Gaster curse, yet that one word summed up the situation exquisitely,  _ fuck _ indeed.   
  
"Yeah, that's about where I am too, pal." Sans admitted refilling his own glass, "I dunno who that guy was, but it's the second time I've seen her dream of him."   
  
Gaster righted his head to peer at Sans with a frown, his glasses slightly askew.   
  
"Really? Mmmm...probably whoever did this to her, I'd have to run some programs but without a recording, I'd be shooting blind." Gaster then extended his glass to the table, "more."   
  
Sans obliged, filling it back up for his boss.

"I wanna, " Gaster took the glass and sipped from it, "I wanna run some tests on those dreams, take another look at her code too, but from what i saw her files are all buggered."   
  
Sans lifted an eyebrow, draining his glass halfway,   
  
"Yeah?" The short skeleton grunted, "Hey, didn't you say you programmed her, made some of her parts?" Gaster snorted in response.   
  
"I was contacted to make some code, I assumed it was for her, and the parts would have been roughly her size but now I'm not so sure."   
  
Sans swirled that around in his skull, staring at the half-full glass in his hand in thought, it felt like the two were wading into something bigger than both of them.   
  
"Do you remember who contacted ya?"   
  
Gaster frowned, then sighed and drained his glass, and put it down for more.   
  
"Not off the top of my skull, but it was probably one of the local facilities, I'd have to check tomorrow, mmm..." Gaster scowled at his glass in thought, as Sans refilled the glass, "but I'm telling you Sans, I have a bad feeling"

Sans grunted, but he had to admit; he didn't feel so good about this either, yet...he didn't really feel scared just...what was the word...   
  
Determined?   
  
"So about those tests...what are you lookin' to run, Gast?"   
  
The scientist was nursing his drink, his expression thoughtful as he tried to work through his muddled mind.   
  
"Well...I want to see what kind of personality develops, what her IQ is and what kind of implants were put into her, 'cause I'm startin' ta wonder, y'know?" Gaster must be getting drunk, he was dropping his normally professional speech for a more relaxed way of speaking.    
  
"An' her dreams?" Sans prodded, the ice in his glass clinking.   
  
"I have a theory but it needs checking" gaster admitted, "I think her nightmares may be memories, they were a little too...real for my taste. As for the dreams, well I'm curious what she would do if one of her dreams came true, to a degree. I'm not touching pineapple on pizza." he shot Sans a withering glare.

Sans watched Gaster for a moment, his brow furrowing as the doctor leaned back, now why would he...wait... _ WAIT! _   
  
"Hold on," Sans sat up, his drink sloshing slightly, "You...you want her to call you uncle?" His tone immediately put Gaster on the defensive, the scientist turning away, a scowl on his face.   
  
"It's for the science, to understand! We need to...to science more Sans!" Gaster sounded so passionate, which Sans had no doubt he was, but he also didn't doubt that this was a desperate attempt to side-step the issue.   
  
"Yeah I get it Doc, an' I'll pretend you didn't smile when you heard her call ya 'uncle'." Of course Gaster hadn't actually smiled, but Sans was running his own experiment.

Gaster stammered, his eyes wide then narrowing defiantly as he put the glass on the table, "more," he demanded.   
  
"Ah...naw" Sans finished his own glass and placed it on the table, "I think we've both had enough, fer now at least. We gotta figure out what we're gonna do with the kid, she's been through a lot. You wanna run experiments on her dreams, yeah?"   
  
Gaster nodded affirmatively, folding his holed hands in his lap, "Yes, the ones I mentioned were just off the top of my head. I need to study her, to understand her, I need to look at her parts, her programming...I need to see why she is so different. It may be able to help others."   
  
Sans nodded a little,    
  
"An you like her."   
  
Gaster lowered his head, once more studying his hands.

"...I know I'm not the most morally enlightened individual Sans, I am too self aware to lie to myself about that. But just because I'm not a paragon of virtue does not mean I enjoy seeing children hurt. I could almost... _ FEEL _ the terror flowing off of her, and the idea that someone stole her life away for their own purposes is just..."   
  
He took a breath.   
  
"...it reminds me too much of Chara"

Sans perked up curiously, that sounded like a story and any chance to have himself distracted from his current and growing problem, he would take.   
  
"Chara? I've never heard that name b'fore, who's that?" the skeleton inquired lazily, the look of pain that flashed across Gaster's face was unexpected, it was not an expression that Sans was used to seeing on his boss, and Sans found he didn't like it.   
  
"...Do you know who owns the lab we work in, Sans?" Gaster began, not lifting his head to look at the other skeleton. Sans blinked in confusion but decided to play along for now.   
  
"Yeah, Asgore Dreemurr, the multi-millionaire, what does he have ta do with it?"    
  
Gaster reached out and poured himself another drink, which tempted Sans to scold the scientist but he held off, that look was the kind of look of someone who needed the extra boost.   
  
"He has an ex-wife named Toriel Dreemurr and a ...child named Asriel," Sans noted the slight hesitation, "But he also had a daughter...one named Chara. A human."

Sans blinked, he couldn't have heard that right...   
  
"Wait, are we talkin' about the same Asgore here Gast? Asgore is well known for hatin' humans, blames 'em for ruinin' his marriage."    
  
Gaster laughed, it was a hollow and painful wheeze, not the kind of sound that Sans liked to hear; it was a painful and bitter noise.

"Yes that is the fiction they fed the public isn't it?" Gaster snorted, "A fine little piece of tripe for the public to consume and gossip about, while the real story was..."   
  
He leaned back and sipped the alcohol.   
  
"...it would have been four years ago that they adopted a child, a human girl named 'Chara'. Toriel told me she chose the girl because of her unique eyes, it seemed that the girl was very special as she had the brightest, reddest eyes anyone had ever seen, completely natural too. She got picked on in the orphanage and Toriel's heart went out to her...so they adopted the child."   
  
Gaster frowned, his hand shaking slightly,   
  
"But ASGORE,"he spat the name, "was not interested in the girl's wellbeing, he had only done it for the good PR." Sans frowned, trying to recall something about a human dreemurr but he was coming up blank.   
  
"But Gast, I don't remember hearin' about Asgore havin' a human kid." The creases in Gaster's brow deepened as anger filled the monster,   
  
"That's because he buried all the stories, paid a lot of money to erase her, you may find a clip here or there on youtube but he was very thorough." Sans was stunned by this, to go so far as to  _ ERASE _ someone in your family? Why!?   
  
"But...-"   
  
"It was The Accident...which was no accident at all."

Sans felt a chill pass down his spine

"See, Asgore had made a lot of enemies, he was ruthless in the business world, I remember seeing a news article crowning him King of The Business World, and of course that success went to his head. His gunboat negotiating tactics however made him both successful and well hated, he stepped on a lot of people to get where he was and I guess someone decided to bring him down a peg."   
  
Sans was hanging onto Gaster's words, that knotted feeling in his gut only growing.   
  
"It was during his commute to an airport when he was t-boned by a truck. Most vehicles pride themselves on their impact rating, but even the most secure limo isn't designed to take a full on battering ram from a truck going over two hundred miles per hour. The entire side folded like paper, and his family was severely injured. Asgore was fine however, as he had not been in the limo at the time, rather he had gone to his office to get something and was going to meet them at the airport. "   
  
Gaster's eye lights were out, the scientist was back in those days...in those dark days.   
  
"His family was rushed to the hospital, but Asgore had Toriel and Asriel transferred to a special unit to be cared for by top surgeons, Chara however had to wait, even though she was the worst injured of all three as she had been closest to the door when the car was struck. Asgore always spoke of of how they were all family...but in that moment, he made a decision. He prioritized the ones who looked like him over the child who didn't."

Sans felt cold.   
  
"So...what happened after that?"   
  
Gaster threw back his drink and poured himself the rest of the bottle.   
  
"Toriel and Asriel recovered but Chara's injuries were extremely extensive, including brain damage. By the time that it was revealed what Asgore had done it was too late to hope for a full recovery. Toriel and Asgore fought over it...she was horrified he hadn't given Chara the same level of assistance that they had gotten.    
  
She told me that he had told her that the doctors he got them to could only take two so he had to make a decision, and he chosen them. Toriel told me she had demanded to know why, saying; 'She is our daughter, Asgore'," Gaster lifted his head to look at Sans, "Would you like to know what he said?"   
  
Sans had a feeling he didn't want to.   
  
"Yeah, sure..." he trailed off, his voice sounding weak even to the short skeleton himself.   
  
"He said; yes, our 'adopted' daughter."   
  
Sans' eyelights winked out as Gaster took a long drink of the alcohol

that level of casual disregard just baffled Sans, he couldn't understand why someone would discard a member of their own family just for being different.   
  
"Toriel contacted me, as she had heard of my work into Companions and wanted me to try and help CHara, so I agreed. Chara however was too heavily brain damaged, her physical damage was extremely extensive, even with the medical attention she had received. So, I made her a companion to Asriel, and all my work afterwards has been towards trying to find a way to ...fix Chara."   
  
Sans eyeballed his glass and the half-melted ice

"So why'd Asgore try ta erase the kid?"   
  
Gaster put his glass down, tragically empty.   
  
"Shame. It was easier to claim that humans had destroyed his marriage than to admit his callous disregard for his adopted daughter based solely on her race, had torn his marriage apart. Asgore later hired me to try and...fix Chara, after I had changed her into a Companion. He believed that if I could fix her, that it would bring Toriel and Asriel back to him"

Sans was stunned by Asgore's arrogance, absolutely gobsmacked.

"Wait..." Sans frowned, "If Toriel hired ya then why do ya work for Asgore?" The skeleton shrugged in response to Sans' question.   
  
"Ease. I had been responsible for making Companions for a while before she hired me, but working for Asgore gave me a private lab and resources hat Toriel herself didn't have. Asgore accepts it for his own reason, though I suspect that when Toriel came to see Chara, it forced her onto his turf and to interact with him"

Along silence followed, a suffocating one as Sans drank in the story, then finally shook his head.   
  
"That's...fucked up Gast."   
  
The doctor gave a half-hearted shrug of agreement.   
  
"Yes, it is...but i think in his own way, Asgore does love Chara, he just loves his legacy more...which brings me to Frisk." Sans blinked, then furrowed his brow in confusion, not seeing the connection.   
  
"Whaddya mean Doc? Ya said that Frisk reminded ya of Chara, but I dun' see the resemblance."    
  
Gaster peered at Sans for a several moments before blinking and grunting.   
  
"Oh, oh right...well that's because Frisk and Chara are extremely similar in appearance, for starters and around the same age too. Chara however acted a bit...strange, because of the brain damage. Bein' turned into a companion probably saved her life, made her mobile again and we were hoping that being around Asriel would help...but it wasn't doing much.   
  
My research into my own creations and how they adapted was all for helping Chara...then some bastard stole her" Gaster thumped the couch with one fist, his expression turning hot and angry

"Wait...stole her?" Sans' bony eyebrows raised in surprise, "You gotta be kiddin'."   
  
Gaster shook his head, fuming.   
  
"No, I'm not, the day after you got Frisk, someone just walked into the area where I was keeping Chara and took her right off her charging dock and I had no idea why. I mean yeah her and Frisk could be twins for how similar they looked, but there was some differences, the colour of their hair, the colour of their skin, and their eyes; Chara has red. Now seeing Frisk's nightmare-"   
  
"You think that they thought they were gettin' Frisk." Sans interjected, and Gaster nodded.

"...Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck" Sans' head sank into his bony hands and he sighed.   
  
"that's what I said." Gaster agreed, "That's what I said."

The smell of cooking bacon dragged Gaster from sleep, his head was pounding and the room was spinning; he had the worst possible hangover, and it wasn't doing anything good for his already abrasive personality. He was in Papyrus' room, which had its own questions, but he wasn't in any mood to contemplate them and instead stumbled out of the bedroom and into the bathroom where he washed his face as best he could, given the circumstances.    
  
Once again, Gaster found himself relieved that he wasn't a species cursed with hair; as he was certain he'd look like a bedraggled medusa if he did have any. While being a skeleton had its own hurdles regarding hygiene, hair care was not one of them.    
  
He idly noted also that he was...in a t-shirt that said 'cool dude' and a pair of loose, baggy pants, which were certainly not his! Agitated, he left the bathroom and found his way into the kitchen, where he found Sans nursing a drink of water and...there she was.   
  
Frisk was standing on a chair, dressed in an oversized apron as she made some bacon and eggs for breakfast monster-various naturally. The companion had her blindfold back on but there was a spare one on the table, perhaps in case this one got dirty from all the spitting grease associated with this particular breakfast.   
  
Gaster had choice words, but settled instead for slumping at the table, in front of the second glass of water and pills.

"mornin' doc" Sans grumbled, and Gaster only grunted back like an irate pig, fumbling with the pills and then the water, praying to whatever gods there were that they would kick in soon. He lifted his head and tugged on the 'cool dude' t-shirt, earning a light grin from Sans.   
  
"Frisk's idea, she said you smelled like a brewery, so she changed ya inta that and put your clothes in the wash, mine too." Sans was careful not to add that it was nice to see a tall skeleton in those clothes, and if he squinted a bit....   
  
"Frisk...?" Gaster rasped, his throat feeling dry as sandpaper, he didn't trust himself to say more than that.   
  
"Yup, kiddo is actually a bit of a neat freak, maybe it's a companion thing." Sans shrugged. Gaster was silently cursing the shorter monster for his ability to weather hangover's, likely attributed to Sans' regular bouts of drunkenness. Gaster though promised himself he wouldn't give Sans as much grief about coming into work a little slow, if he was battling this kind of headache.   
  
"I would advise against going into work today, Doctor Gaster, Sans." offered the companion, putting the food onto three plates then hopping down from her chair and carrying them to the table, "A hangover can cause lowered productivity in the one suffering it, irritability and tiredness, all which would negatively impact scientific endeavours."    
  
Gaster peered at the girl as if she had grown a second head, as Frisk made her way to the fridge and collected a jug of M-Orange Juice and poured a tall glass, then joined them at the table.   
  
"She doesn't eat the paste?" Gaster wondered, "Why?"

Unknowingly, the tall skeleton had struck a nerve, Frisk's lips curling downwards while San's smile strained.    
  
"'Cause that stuff takes like a donkey's ass."  Sans spat with vitirol, "I would never feed anyone that crap, unless I  _ really _ hated 'em." Gaster was going to press the issue but he saw Frisk call up a holographic screen and add a tally to it.   
  
"Sans, how do you know how the hindquarters of a donkey tastes like?" She inquired, the innocence of her question strongly contrasting with her words, making Gaster snicker slightly. Sans however, took it in stride and smiled at the girl, a smile that Gaster noted was actually very genuine, and he took another sip of water.   
  
"Remind me ta tell ya about Pap's earliest attempts at Spaghetti." his answer only seemed to further perplex the young companion, who frowned and called up multiple screens, all flashing with images and recipes for spaghetti before she furrowed her little brow and closed them all.   
  
"Sans, no recipe I found calls for the posterior of a donkey..." she trailed off, looking at him for explanation.    
  
Sans just smirked, picking up his knife and fork.   
  
"Eat yer food kid."

Gaster bit into his scrambled eggs, and tasted cheese and a handful of other spices he didn't immediately recognize.   
  
"This isn't bad," the bespectacled scientist admitted, "Where did you get the recipe, Sans?" The short skeleton frowned very slightly, he understood that Gaster was used to ignoring Companions and wasn't intentionally trying to be rude, but if he was going to be around Frisk, then that was an issue they'd have to address.   
  
"Actually, it's the kid's recipe," Sans boasted, making Gaster's bony eyebrows raise in surprise, "Yup, kid likes cookin', she made it up herself. Pretty good aint it?"   
  
Gaster once more shot Frisk a look of stunned surprise, though the Companion in question merely ignored him in favour of grasping her oversized glass of orange juice in both hands and drinking deeply from it, her feline ears tilting and twisting around in pleasure. While Sans may have liked those ears for a purely aesthetic reason, Gaster found the ears and tail to be more fascinating from a scientific standpoint; they were so very expressive in ways that the child companion wasn't always.

_ What if.... _   
  
Gaster waited until Frisk finished drinking, and poured herself more M-Orange Juice, while the two skeletons helped themselves to some toast she had made and extra helpings of bacon.   
  
"Well...this is very good" Gaster admitted, eyes locked on Frisk, "You did a very good job....Frisk." There was a rumble from her throat, and her tail slashed the air like a whip, ears turning towards him while her lips curled upwards.   
  
"Thank you, Doctor Gaster." he caught the hint of pleasure in her voice, and a slight colouring of her cheeks, he wasn't sure what it meant...but it meant something.

That settled it, Gster needed more information.   
  
"I'm going to call into the office," the scientist declared, biting into those delicious eggs, "We are going to take the day off, and instead show Frisk around the town. "   
  
Sans eyes widened very slightly   
  
"not that I'm complainin' or anythin' Doc, but...why?"

Sans had a right to be suspicious, though Gaster would have to remind him of the difference between healthy suspicion and paranoia.   
  
"I want to see how your Com...how Frisk interacts with the world, she is very unique and could teach us a lot." Gster gave a shrug and attacked his bacon with gusto, "Besides, don't you want to get paid to lounge all day?"   
  
that was a cheap shot, but it wasn't something Sans could deny.   
  
"That's low Doc" he grinned ruefully, "But yeah alright, if you wanna pay me ta take the kid sightseein'..." Gaster nodded, "it's settled then, I'll call Alphys after breakfast."   
  
Once more he gathered some of the eggs on his fork,   
  
"These really are very good."   
  
Frisk's warm purr filled the dining room, a noise that Gaster found...pleasing, though he couldn't put his bony finger on why. Probably just because it was the sound of something being happy, that must be it.   
  
That had to be it.

 

And maybe, if he tried hard enough, he just might believe that….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ho hum, Aku is a brilliant writer. ALL PRAISE THE GENIUS THAT IS AAAAAAKUUUUUUU!

**Author's Note:**

> Akumokagetsu -  
> -Beware the massive amounts of ensuing sin-
> 
> Licorice-  
> -This is the result of Aku and I having too much free time on our hands and not enough common sense to realize when we have a bad idea. This is an RP we turned into a proper AU and we'll probably keep adding to this madhouse. Sorrynotsorry-


End file.
